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pshcomforts · 4 months

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➳ shameless | psh.

highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

“there’s just inches between us”

synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.

warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.9k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

current song playing: shameless by camila cabello

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04

another day, another struggle of being late to class.

y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.

[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.

“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”

in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.

“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.

“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”

“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.

dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”

“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.

“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.

y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.

her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.

she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.

she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.

her friends giggled at their relationship.

“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.

y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”

“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.

“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”

dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.

“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”

she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.

he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.

he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.

but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.

“well we’re not saying you should-“

ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.

heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.

“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.

y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.

“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”

given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.

he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.

“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.

sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.

his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”

“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”

he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”

his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.

sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.

his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.

in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’

his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.

hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.

he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.

he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.

‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.

jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.

he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.

won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.

‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.

sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.

‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.

before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.

he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.

min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.

the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.

sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.

the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.

the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.

soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.

“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.

hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.

“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”

everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.

“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”

his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.

a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.

y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.

sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.

“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.

almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“

“can’t wait,” he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”

min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two

y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.

from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.

karma really was a bitch.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.

with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.

students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.

“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.

“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.

“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.

y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.

the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.

68.

her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.

eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.

she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.

y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.

her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.

‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.

and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.

the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.

the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.

“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.

“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.

“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.

min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.

“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.

“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.

the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.

“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”

“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.

“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.

she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”

when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.

“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.

a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.

but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.

y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.

[ 3:17pm ] — it read.

it’s gonna be a long while.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.

the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.

a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.

“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.

y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.

a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.

she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.

y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.

his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.

“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.

it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.

the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.

“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.

he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.

“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.

“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.

the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.

“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.

sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.

he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”

he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.

hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.

he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.

only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.

y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”

hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.

“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”

“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”

sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.

“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”

their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.

✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩

tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.

✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩

“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”

“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”

his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.

✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩

y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.

“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”

✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩

sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.

“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.

y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.

✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩

hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.

he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.

“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”

he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.

a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.

y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.

she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.

a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.

park 👎🏼:

Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.

I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.

nothing would ever be the same between the two again.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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prettyfastcars · 4 months

Text

Skin and bones | Lewis x Reader

Summary: Family vacation was over, and it was time for all of you to go back home. Your mom and Lewis’ dad would go around the world, travelling some more. Lewis would go back to his glamorous, fast life and you’d go back to your quiet life in Paris. So whatever had been going on between you and Lewis this whole time, it all ends. Right?

Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, possessive!lewis, fluff

a/n: read part 1, part 2, and part 3 here ;)

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You came back from gathering wood for the bonfire expecting to find everyone setting up tents – since Lewis had the brilliant idea of going camping in the middle of nowhere in this dense forest – but you found no one. Except a devilishly handsome ‘stepbrother’ setting up one single tent.

“Lewis,” You spoke again, dropping all the wood near where you were supposed to have the bonfire. “Where’s my mom? And your dad?”

“They went back to the cabin.” He answered like it was nothing at all as he finished setting up the tent, shaking it to check if it was sturdy enough. It was.

You frowned. “What? But we planned to camp out here, all of us. This was your idea.”

“Relax babygirl,” Lewis stood up and walked over to pick up the wood you’d dropped. “They probably wanted some alone time before we leave tomorrow morning.” He winked at you before walking away again.

You winced not wanting to think about it for more than a second, “Okay, gross.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. It was beginning to get cold, the sun had just set and the forest was getting dark really fast. “So it’s just you and I out here? They just left me here with you and decided to walk back to the cabin for no reason?” Something didn’t add up.

Lewis was kneeling on the ground, setting up the wood to make a decent sized fire. Then he looked up, smirking at you, “They trust big brother to keep you safe, little sis.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. That whole bondage episode happened just two nights ago. Lewis had been less of an ass since. But you could tell some plotting was happening in that head of his. So this morning at breakfast he announced that you all should probably camp in the forest tonight since it would be your last night here at the cabin. The parents agreed of course.

So the four of you hiked up here in the afternoon and began setting up. After a quick dinner, you realised you would all need a bonfire to keep warm through the night, so you volunteered to go find wood for it. When you got back just now, the parents were gone and Lewis was being a smartass again.

“You convinced them to go back, didn’t you?”

You figured that’s the only way they would’ve left you here with him. Lewis had a way of… persuading people easily. All he had to do was stare at you with those soft, warm brown eyes and give you that innocent smile and there’s nothing one wouldn’t do for him. You knew because you’d been a victim of those pretty eyes yourself.

He finally lit the fire, and it caught perfectly, gradually growing. Lewis smiled at you again, a mischievous spark in those eyes of his. “I just told your mom that maybe this cold, humid weather would be bad for her occasional joint pains. And dad decided they should probably head back and be warm in the cabin.” He added, “They didn’t want to take the risk, you see?”

“Right.” So the game you two had been playing was still on. You shook your head at him. “Okay, what do you want?”

“To talk.” He replied quickly, standing up.

Gods… he really was one of the most beautiful human beings huh? His braids were not tied into a ponytail today, they were loose and nearly reached his shoulders. And he looked so warm with all the layers he was wearing. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just snuggle up to him and let him wrap those big arms around you to keep you warm.

“Talk about what, Lewis?” You forced yourself to look away from him as he approached you, the fire growing behind him. You looked down at your muddy shoes instead. “There’s nothing left to talk about. Tomorrow morning we’re all leaving. You’re going back to… I don’t know where. And I’m going back to Paris, and we won’t see each other all year–,”

He stopped you by grabbing you by the chin and tilted your face up so you looked at him. “Really?” He questioned, staring deep into your eyes. He leaned closer, but not close enough. “That night a couple of days ago can’t be the last time I touched you. I want more.” He confessed, and almost kissed you again.

But you pulled away, crossing your arms over your chest like that would act as a barrier between the two of you. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not?” He leaned closer again, pulling you into him by the waist. When you avoided his eyes, he grabbed you by the chin again, “Look at me.” He demanded. When you did, he said, “Are you sure you wanna be done with me?”

No.

You placed your hands flat on his chest. His warmth made you sigh in bliss. Then with a shaky voice you asked, “What’s the endgame here, Lewis? Whatever we do, it’s gonna hurt our parents.”

He scoffed in that arrogant way of his which you loved despite everything. “We’re grown ups. We can do whatever we–,”

You cut him off, “Yes we are grown ups and it’s still taboo and wrong to fuck your mom’s boyfriend’s son!” You whisper-yelled.

He argued still, “It’s different for us! We didn’t grow up together or anything. Hell, I met you only a couple of years ago. Our parents aren’t married, it’s different.”

You had nothing to argue back with so you shut up and pulled away from his warm embrace. “Lewis… I don’t know what to say to you. Maybe we should just go back to our lives and–,”

He cut you off again, this time pushing you against the nearby tree. His strong arms grabbed you by the hips, his chest pressing against yours. You felt hot. And it wasn’t because of the layers that you were wearing.

He got really close to your face, his soft lips just inches away from yours and said in a terribly bitter tone which sent shivers down your back, “Go back to our lives, huh? So you mean to tell me that these past few weeks mean nothing to you?” He questioned in an accusatory tone. “You mean you’re gonna go back and forget about all this? You’re gonna go back and let other people fuck you and pretend you’re not gonna be thinking about me each time they fail to make you come like I do?”

His words shouldn’t affect you but just imagining having sex with anyone else seemed… wrong. You stared into his pretty eyes and your emotions were all over the place. You were sad, angry, you hated him, you craved him, you wanted him gone, you didn’t want to let him go.

“So what?” You asked, sarcastically. “What do you think is gonna happen here? We’re gonna do a risky, long distance thing? We’re gonna keep meeting behind our parents’ backs? We’ll lie to everyone? I’ll fly out to come see you race whenever I can and you’re gonna fly home to me during your breaks? And we’ll be happy together until we grow sick of sneaking around and come clean and tell everyone to just deal with it!?”

Lewis opened his mouth to argue, but then he closed it again. You did the same thing. Twice. You two just stared at each other because whatever you just spit out in a fit… it didn’t sound so bad, did it? Well, except for lying to the parents part.

He didn’t know what to say so he just said, “Get inside.” He pointed at the only tent that was set up.

You didn’t argue even though you saw what was coming. It physically hurt to walk away from him and to even think about all the miles that would be between you two come tomorrow.

You began overthinking everything as you took your muddy shoes off and got in the tent. It was more spacious than you thought inside. You saw the double sleeping bag and a familiar shiver danced down your spine.

You peeled off some layers and immediately got into the sleeping bag. And your mind began racing again as you forced your eyes shut. Say you and Lewis keep this madness up, what would happen when your parents would find out? Family dinners would get real awkward, that’s for sure.

But then, given who Lewis was, what would happen when the world finds out about you? Your parents’ relationship was well hidden from the media. But Lewis always had eyes on him. Now that you thought about it, maybe that’s why he wanted to come here in the middle of nowhere and not vacation in a tourist-y place. There were no cameras here.

–

You opened your eyes and found that you were snuggling next to something warm. You saw tattooed arms wrapped around you and you tried to hide the smile that formed on your face.

“How long was I asleep for?” You asked, placing a hand on his chest. You felt his strong heartbeats beneath your palm and smiled again, sadly this time. Fuck, you were gonna miss him.

“Just an hour or two. I guess you worried yourself to sleep.” He teased. “It’s okay though, it’s only around midnight right now so we have time to talk about everything.”

You sighed, pulling away to get a better look at him. He turned on his side, arms pulling you closer. You shoved your face into the crook of his warm neck and groaned loudly, “I hate you.”

He chuckled softly. “Oh do you?”

His hands slipped under your thin sweater and t-shirt, stroking your skin. He drew lazy circles at your lower back and side. You couldn’t think about anything. His warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin was the only thing that made sense. It was beginning to drizzle outside, you could hear the random droplets hit the tent.

Then you blurted out, “I don’t want to fight with you. But I don’t see how we can be together.”

Lewis was quiet for a while. You let your head rest against his shoulder, your fingers tracing the visible tattoos all over his hands. Then Lewis asked, “Do you truly want me out of your life?”

“No.” You answered with a sleepy voice.

“Then stop fighting this.” He stated, his hands wandering a little more, now sliding up to cup you through your thin bra. “Stop fighting me.”

You sighed, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. If this was the last time, you wanted to cherish each moment. “I don’t want to. But–,”

He cut you off with a kiss. Soft, sweet, his lips brushing against yours slowly. Like he was tasting you for the first time. “That little head of yours thinks too much,” He murmured, moving so he now hovered above you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as you looked up at him. “Let me worry about everything. Just, stop fighting this.” He said before leaning down for another heated kiss.

You moaned and whimpered into the kiss. You needed him badly. “Okay,” You whispered against his soft mouth.

His hand touched you wherever he could, lingering at your breasts and taking his sweet time, caressing and kissing your skin. His other hand slipped past your leggings and cupped you between your legs firmly. You moaned and gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased your clit.

“Lewis, please,” You begged, desperately grinding against his hand. “I need you, please.” You whispered against his mouth.

Lewis chuckled. “Still wanna go back and pretend we never happened?” He teased. “Hmm? Think you’ll ever be able to look in the mirror and not think about how I kiss you?” He kissed down your neck, “How good my fingers feel inside you?” He slid two fingers inside you then, stroking you perfectly, just how you liked it and he had you whining and squirming under him in no time. “Answer me, little sis?”

“Fuck,” You whimpered, “You know I could never forget you.”

He smirked through the kiss, happy with what you said. Then he quickly lowered your leggings while you helped him by lowering his sweatpants, and he easily slid inside you without breaking the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as best you could. Your clothes and the sleeping bag got in the way but the two of you were too needy to care or stop.

Lewis moved in and out of you, slowly at first, then sped up once he found the right pace and angle. Your back arched off the surface each time filled you up completely, mercilessly thrusting into you hard and fast.

At some point he grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down above your head. He finally pulled away from the messy kiss and stared into your eyes, lips parted and breathing heavily as he fucked you. He rolled his hips against you so well that you began tearing up.

You were gasping for breath, struggling to keep up and not come too quickly because you didn’t want this to stop. You never wanted him to stop.

“You can’t get rid of me, babygirl,” He mumbled breathlessly as he pushed deeper into you. “You can’t forget me,” He fucked you harder, as if proving his point. “You’ll always feel me,” He kissed your open mouth, shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed in and out of you, “All over your skin, and in your fucking bones,” He growled, and your legs trembled around his waist, but he still thrust deeper into you, fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

You cried out in pleasure, your back arching as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Lewis growled and bit down on your shoulder while he fucked you relentlessly. You were sure that his bite left a mark but you didn’t care.

“Lewis,” You gasped, “I need to come, please… please,” You begged.

“Not yet, babygirl,” He whispered, kissing your cheek softly as if it made up for the way he pounded into you like you were a doll. “Don’t you dare fucking come yet.” His hand found its way to your front and he pressed his palm against your lower abdomen. “You feel me in here?” He asked, feeling his cock thrust deep inside you. “You think you’ll forget this anytime soon? Hmm?” His hand travelled all the way to your neck and he gently squeezed the side of your throat. He squeezed hard enough to make you lose your mind while he kept pounding into you incessantly.

“No…” You whispered against his lips. With a few more strokes, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to come. “Lewis, please I can’t–”

You came with a loud cry, unable to hold back.

Lewis came right after you, buried deep within you – growling under his breath. He remained on top of you, lowering some of his body weight onto you. You welcomed it, it felt nice. He was warm and you were a whimpering mess.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay,” He whispered, kissing your face as he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you in the sleeping bag. You were shaking just a little as he tucked your head under his chin and ran his soothing hand down your back. You placed your head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeats again.

After a while of cuddling as you both caught your breaths, you said, “We have to leave in a few hours. We should get back to the cabin soon.”

He wrapped his arms around you, as if he’d never let go. He kissed the top of your head and said, “Stop thinking for a moment. Just be here with me, baby. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.” He spoke so confidently, like he always did. “I’ve got you.”

You smiled and kissed the compass tattoo on his chest before placing your head on it. You didn’t want to worry anymore. Whatever happened, you two would deal with it.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #stepbrother!lewis

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ifancyharry · 9 months

Text

Routine - Bad Habit (3)

in which YN spends the night - officially - for the first time, but Harry's daughter isn't really happy about that; fluff; angst; smut; dad!harry

wc: 5.9k

can be read as a stand alone, but if you want to understand more read Bad Habit (1) and (2)

“Hi.” Harry greets her as soon as he opens the door, smiling the same smile YN has been in love with since she was 20 years old.

“Hi.” She repeats his word as a form of greeting, and despite the shortness of it, nothing needs to be added, because the excitement they both transpire can be felt in the air between them.

This would be the first time YN officially spent the night. Of course, she’d stayed over many times in the two months they had been dating, but never officially. She’d always leave before Aidi could find her tangled in Harry’s sheets, and it had been fine at first. She hated waking up early, but she’d do whatever she could to reassure Aidi’s well being.

YN doesn’t know why all of a sudden Harry was eager to invite her over. He told her he felt ready, and she had felt excited despite feeling the fear of how his daughter would react.

Harry told her that he wouldn’t tell her right away, YN would just stay over and they’d see from there how it went. Of course, his nonchalance hadn’t gone unnoticed by YN, that on the other hand felt nervous about it all and would’ve much rather he told Aidi she would at least spend the night. But, she figured, she wasn’t a parent, and she couldn’t possibly know what was best for Aidi, so she had agreed to follow his plan with enthusiasm.

“Everything okay?” He asks when he sees she hasn’t moved from her spot.

“Just a little bit nervous” she shrugs, tightening the grip around the handle of her duffle bag.

“I see I still have tha’ effect on yah?” He chuckles, opening his lips in a teasing smirk.

“Shut up! ‘S not because of you”

“I know” he says, and his eyes soften at the sight of the girl in front of him, all shy and anxious about something that he thinks is so natural. “‘M just teasing. Everything’s gonna be okay”

She sighs at his words and takes a step closer to him, “ugh, I know… just want it to be perfect”

“‘S already perfect with you here” he smiles, grabbing her upper arm and tugging her closer to him. He circles her back with his arm and squeezes her against his chest, holding her tight in a soothing embrace.

“You’re perfect” she sighs once again, inhaling the pleasing scent of his fabric softener lingering on his hoodie.

YN still can’t believe he is hers.

“C’mon let’s go inside, yeah?”

“Mmhmm” she nods against the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Once Harry closes the front door behind him, he takes YN’s duffle bag from her hands and tells her to follow him upstairs.

“Where’s Aidi?” She asks.

“In her room”

“Is she… does she know I’m here?”

She watches as he nods his head, and she wonders for a moment if there’s something wrong going on. Is Aidi upset? Is it too soon?

“Harry…” she whispers once they enter his room, “maybe it’s too soon. We should have-“

“YN.” He interrupts her, a serious look adorning his gentle features, “I told you already everything is fine.”

“Okay” she nods doubtfully, not really convinced by his words.

He tosses her bag on his bed and after he turns around to face her. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it to reassure her. He knows how she is. How much she worries, but that’s the very same reason why he’s so sure about this. He knows she cares about Aidi very much, and he thinks she’ll be good for his daughter, even if it takes her some time getting used to having another person around more.

YN follows Harry out of his room, and, once they reach Aidi’s door, she watches as he gently knocks on it.

“Aidi?” He asks, opening the door and peeking his head inside. “Hi bug” he says softly, and YN feels herself melt at the interaction. He’s so gentle, so sweet. He makes her feel warm, like the first spring sun shining on her skin after a cold winter.

He opens the door wider and YN spots Aidi laying on her bed, her ballerina bunny squeezed under her chin. She lights up as soon as she sees her dad, and she nods timidly when Harry asks her if she was asleep.

“I was really tired, daddy” she mumbles, knuckling at her eyes sleepily.

“Tha’s okay” he reassures. “‘S almost time to eat dinner”

YN watches from the door jamb, unsure on what to do. She doesn’t want to interfere in their moment, still feeling a bit unease at the situation.

“Do you want to say hi to YN?” Harry asks when Aidi gets up from the bed.

She shakes her head no. “I already said at school”.

YN bites hard on her bottom lip. She knew it would be hard.

Harry furrows his brows and looks at his daughter, confused by her behavior. She loves YN. She always talks about how nice she is and how she’s so happy she’s his friend so he doesn’t really know where this is coming from. He figures she’s just grumpy from being woken up.

YN, on the other hand, thinks this is going to be harder than they thought.

…

It’s a little bit later in the evening, and despite the abrupt start, things seem calmer now. Aidi had played with her dolls while she watched cartoons on the tv, and YN had helped Harry with setting the table for dinner.

She thinks it’s nice. Settling into a routine and sharing it with them. She’s always been kind of alone, and she’s always thought of herself as more of a loner, but maybe she’s been wrong all along and this is where she was actually destined to be.

“Aidi?” Harry calls from inside the kitchen.

YN smiles fondly once she sees Aidi walking towards them with a pep in her step, she seems fine, until Harry asks her what she wants to eat, because nothing seems of her liking.

“Noooo daddy I don’ like that!” she protests when Harry shows her the package of pasta he intended on cooking.

“But you’ve always liked it! You looove when granny makes it for yah!”

“Yeah” she gives him a firm nod, “but yeh’re not granny”

YN has to refrain herself from laughing at them. She wonders if she’s like this everyday or she’s putting on a show just because she’s there.

“Uggh fine, then. How about…” he looks through the cupboard to see what other thing he could cook, he picks up another package of pasta, shaped like butterflies this time, and holds it in front of her, but Aidi shakes her head disgusted once again.

He moves toward the fridge then, taking out some chicken and showing it to her, but “noooo” she protests.

“Wha’s gotten into yah!” He sighs discouraged.

“I’m sorry” he mouths to YN, to which she replies with a knowing smile.

Harry opens the door to the freezer and YN spots a package of chicken nuggets inside, and she points to them trying to hide her gesture from Aidi, not sure whether she could eat that kind of food.

“She usually doesn’t like them” he shrugs, but when he takes out the package to show it to her, Aidi starts jumping excitedly in her place, “yes! Yes! Daddy want them, pleaseee”.

“But-“ he’s about to protest, but he feels it’s actually pointless to argue with a child, so he sighs and: “fine!”

“Make them crispyyy please daddy” she says seriously, but when YN erupts in an uncontrolled laughter, Aidi starts giggling too.

Harry joins in on their laughter, but his is more of a disbelieving one, amazed by his daughter’s behavior.

Once dinner is ready, Harry, YN and Aidi all sit at the small table in the living room.

Harry fills his and YN’s glasses with the most prestigious red wine he had, and he serves first Aidi (the chicken nuggets with looots of ketchup), then YN (the special pasta his mother taught him to make and that’s the only fancy thing he knows how to make — but, honestly, YN was fine with everything. Even if it meant eating dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets).

The air around them is quiet, there’s a comfortable silence between them, and YN feels happy. Like she belongs. She looks at Aidi tenderly when she hears the quiet humming of what she recognizes is a cartoon’s theme song, and she watches as the little girl dips her nugget in what seems to be way too much ketchup for only a small piece, and when YN raises her glance from Aidi’s plate, she realizes Harry is looking at her with one of the softest looks on his face she’s ever seen. He smiles sweetly at her, but, as opposed to how he used to always avert his gaze when they were still in college — embarrassed she’d catch on the crush he’d always had on her, he doesn’t look away.

‘What?’ She mouths, worried she might have something on her face or that he wants to tell her something without his daughter hearing, but he just shakes his head.

‘Pretty’ he mouths back, and his eyes do that thing YN loves, they twinkle like the brightest of the lights, the warmest shade of green she’s ever seen, like the grass on a chilly spring day, the feeling of seeing a bit of color after months of whiteness.

She bushes and looks down at her plate, still not used to his cheeky compliments.

After dinner, Harry takes out of the fridge the ice cream YN had brought, and when he opens it, he smiles fondly when he realizes she picked Aidi’s favorite flavors: chocolate and strawberry. In the same bag, there’s another tub of ice cream, much smaller, and when he opens it, to his surprise, he sees his favorite flavor: mint chocolate chip.

He knows now she remembers their ice cream runs after a long day of studying, but he’s genuinely surprised she would after so many years, and he thinks it feels nice. It’s nice having someone take care of you, even if it only means picking up your and your daughter’s favorite flavors of ice cream.

He comes back in the living room with the ice cream and three small bowls, and he places them on the table.

“Look what YN got you!” He smiles excitedly, hoping to spark some excitement in his daughter, since she’d been pretty quiet all throughout dinner.

“Ice cream!” She lights up, but when Harry shows her the flavors, she makes a disgusted face and pushes the tub out of her face.

“I don’t like chocolate”

YN, that had watched the encounter proudly, feels her face fall. She thoroughly remembers Aidi loves chocolate ice cream. She’d told her many times in class, and it was what she had asked that day Harry forgot to pick her up and YN had brought her to eat ice cream to distract her. Maybe she remembers wrong? She feels herself panic inside, because how could she have gotten it wrong! She’d been so careful while picking.

“But ’s your favorite!” Harry stresses, his brows furrowing on his forehead.

YN feels a little bit relieved at his words. At least she hadn’t gotten it wrong.

“No, it’s not” she shakes her head, grimacing.

“I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t know wha’s gotten into her” he apologizes, sitting back down in his chair, his shoulder sagging, he feels undefeated.

There’s no way Aidi doesn’t like chocolate ice cream, because he remembers she ate it two days before at his sister’s house, but he chooses not to tell YN that to not aggravate the situation more. He knows this is silly, because it’s just ice cream, but it’s then he realizes maybe everything isn’t okay and Aidi isn’t comfortable with having YN here.

He’s unsure on what to do, feeling conflicted about the situation.

He knows he should put his daughter’s feelings before his, but he also cares about YN, and he doesn’t want to push her away.

“Harry” he hears YN interrupt his train of thoughts, “maybe I remembered wrong. It’s no problem at all! Do you like mint chip?” She asks Aidi the last part, and her voice is soft.

Aidi nods, “’s daddy’s favorite”

YN smiles at her and then throws a quick glance at Harry, “really? You both have great taste then! You share that with your daddy and I’ll eat the other one, okay?”

“Okay” Aidi nods once again and leans forward on the table to pick up the tub of ice cream. She shows it to Harry to signal she wants it in the bowl, and he consents quietly.

Harry — too — realizes this is going to be harder than he thought.

…

Harry feels bad. Tonight hasn’t been what he thought, at all.

He had planned in his mind all the nice and fun things he wanted to do with both YN and Aidi, and maybe, he realizes just now, he had been wrong to assume Aidi wanted to do that. He understands it’s always been them. Since she was born, it’s always been the two of them, tucked away safely in the walls of their home, and Harry understands how she could feel now that YN is here as well.

He just feels bad, because he’d like to do some of those things with YN too. He’d like to eat breakfast with them, he’d like to watch a movie and cuddle them both under his arms, he’d like to kiss both of them goodnight, he’d like to snuggle with them in his bed until it’s inevitably time to get up. But how can he? Aidi is little, and she doesn’t understand what it means to share.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He hears YN gently ask, and he shifts his gaze from the tv to her.

Aidi wanted to watch the new Little Mermaid movie (her favorite of the week), and she had demanded her daddy watched too. YN hadn’t minded, and she sat contently next to them, but only half an hour into the movie, Aidi had fallen asleep against Harry’s chest, his shirt crumbled between her little fingers as she held onto him, almost scared he’d leave her to sleep alone.

Harry leans his head on the backrest of the couch, he then turns it and looks at YN fondly. She’s so pretty now, her hair frame her face perfectly, and the glasses on her nose make her face look softer.

He shakes his head, wary of what she could say if he voiced his thoughts aloud, and when he sees her brows close in a furrow, he averts his gaze, his face facing the ceiling as he closes his eyes.

“Hey” she whispers, careful not to wake Aidi sleeping in his lap. When she realizes he isn’t opening his eyes, she raises her arm and rests it next to his face on the back of the couch. With delicate fingers she caresses the tender skin of his neck, below his ear, where she hears his pulse quicken.

“Harry, hey” she repeats, hoping to gain his attention, but she may have been a little too loud, because Aidi stirs in his lap and opens her eyes slowly.

“Hi, bug” he smiles down at her, his expression changing as soon as she woke up. “Let’s get yah to bed, yeah?”

He stands up from the couch and props Aidi on his hip, caressing her back gently to lull her back to sleep.

She falls asleep on his shoulder almost immediately, and YN raises on her feet quickly, placing a gentle and quiet kiss on her hair. Harry smiles at her and informs her he’d be putting Aidi to bed in her room.

YN turns off the tv and picks up the throw blanket to fold it, when she’s done she puts it on the couch and makes her way upstairs towards Harry’s room.

She sits on his bed and she waits for him, her heart beating fast against her ribcage. She wonders if she should leave. Is that what Harry is so scared to tell her? She’s sure he realized too that Aidi wasn’t comfortable with YN staying over.

She hears the door close quietly and she looks up immediately. She can feel her heart in her throat, convinced he wants to send her away.

Maybe it’s too soon.

Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship with someone his daughter doesn’t like.

Whatever the reason will be, she’s sure this will be their final conversation.

“Hi” he interrupts her train of thoughts.

“Hi”.

He walks towards her and stops in front of her, sitting between her open legs.

“Harry -“ she starts saying, but he interrupts her quickly: “Baby, I’m so sorry”.

“What?” she asks confused, “why are you saying sorry?”

“I thought… today was supposed to be different” he sighs. He raises both of his hands and cradles her face in his palms, caressing the skin of her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry” he repeats, “I wanted to make a nice dinner and maybe go for a walk, and… I don’t know, maybe watch a movie but…”

“But we did!” YN chimes in, bringing her hands up to squeeze his wrists, “it was perfect”

“I know but… Aidi…” he says, shaking his head, panic lacing his voice.

“You don’t think she’s happy…”

“It’s not that… I’m just scared. I didn’t think it would be this difficult” he sighs. He feels guilty, and if there was any way he could have this conversation with her without hurting her, he would. But YN has also taught him to communicate his feelings, and he couldn’t just not tell her what was going on in his mind, how scared he is for his daughter and to cause her pain.

“Oh Harry” she shakes her head against his hands, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she thinks she can taste the blood. “She’s just little, and not used to… all of this. I think you should talk to her.”

“I don’t know how” he looks at her pleadingly.

“Just say how you feel. Start from there. She’s the most wonderful kid I know, she will understand.”

It’s when she says things like these that Harry remembers why he is so sure about YN. She loves him, and perhaps she loves his daughter more than she loves him. Her presence is crucial in both of their lives, and Aidi needs to know her. She needs to be around her, because Harry thinks there’s a part of how YN loves that only she could teach, and he wants Aidi to learn, he wants her to see her dad happy, and he wants her to understand that love is really all that matters.

He gives her a small smile, not big enough to show the dimples YN really loves, but enough for her heart to tighten in her chest.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” She whispers, before tilting her head upwards and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He dips his head forward and deepens the kiss, sighing into her mouth.

Despite the heavy weight on his chest, he’s really happy she’s here.

Her lips are soft against his, and he wants to drink her in, drown in her taste, like the sweetest summer fruit.

Her hands make their way up his arms, her fingers dipping into the cotton of his shirt, and once she reaches his shoulders, she pushes him down against her.

They both fall on the bed, and with the way she’s kissing him, YN hopes she can reassure him. She hopes he understands she’s here now, and he doesn’t have to do it alone. His tongue caresses hers, and his hands are everywhere on her body, holding onto her skin desperately.

He settles between her legs, and pushes his hips forward when she bites his bottom lip, his erection pushing hard against her center where she needs him the most.

“Harry” she says as soon as he moves his head to kiss down her neck, “we shouldn’t. You’re upset” she breathes.

“Mmh” he whimpers against the skin of her neck, “please�� he begs, “i need you. I need you so much.”

She tugs at his hear and he raises his head from her neck, the sight of him almost making YN cum on the spot.

As opposed to how he always is in bed, dark and dominant, he looks soft and pleading, his eyes big and veiled with lust, his lips wet with spit and a particular shade of red mixed with purple.

“You’re the only one that can make me feel better” he whispers looking directly into her eyes.

“Okay” she nods, “okay”.

Harry buries his head back onto her neck and kisses the skin there gently.

His hands travel down to her jeans and he quickly unbuttons them, tugging them down her legs and then throwing them on the floor.

His movements are frantic and eager, but everything about him is soft, from the way his hands caress the skin of her stomach to the way his fingers shift her panties to the side to expose her. He dips his thumb between her folds, rolling tight circles on her clit a couple times. She sighs heavily, and she has to refrain herself from moaning.

When he sees that she’s wet enough, he holds his weight with one arm and with the other he tugs his own jeans down, followed by his boxers right after.

When his cock is finally freed from its restraint, he doesn’t waste a second before he slides it between her folds, coating it with her juices. She brings a hand to his cheek and tilts his head up so he can look into her eyes when he slips inside of her.

“Oh” she whimpers, and he’s quick to swallow her sounds with his own mouth, sighing into her while his hips drill into her.

She feels warm against him, and he finally feels the comfort he’d been looking for.

With gentle fingers he raises the fabric of her t-shirt and exposes more of her skin, his hand resting against her ribcage, under her side boob. With his thumb he pushes her bra up and finally frees her tits, his head dipping down to kiss all over the new exposed skin.

He takes her right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it lightly, soothing it right after with his tongue.

“Please” she moans quietly, arching her back and pushing her tits into is mouth.

“Shh, baby” he giggles, leaving her boobs and going back to her mouth, “fuck” he whispers against her lips, “gonna make me cum already”

She clenches around him, flattered that she could make him reach his high so quickly.

“Baby I need you to cum” he says, and he brings a hand down between them, drawing tight circles on her clit. He knows she’s close by the way her walls clench around him, but he needs her to come before him, so he brings his mouth back on her nipple, the left one this time, and bites on it gently.

With the stimulation on her clit and now on her nipple, YN knows it’s going to take her seconds to cum, and she brings a hand to clasp against her mouth when he gives a particularly harsh thrust that makes her come on the spot. She sees stars and all her body trembles as Harry keeps moving his hips with the pace that made her cum, never taking his hand off her clit.

He parts from her nipple and when he sees her face beginning to contort in discomfort, he pulls his cock put of her and with a few tugs he comes against her stomach, his sticky liquid coming in spurts out of his slit.

“Fuck” he groans, giving another few thrusts against his hand.

When he’s done, he falls on the bed next to her, lifting his arm so she can squeezing in against his side.

She rests her head on his chest, and she can hear his heart beating hard against his chest. She almost falls asleep right there, lulled by the sound of his heart beating loud for her, but: “thank you. I love you”, he whispers against her hair delivering a soft kiss against her hairline.

She chuckles against the skin of his chest, placing a kiss there “i love you too”.

…

“I got more of that cream yeh like… the one made with wine”

They’re both still in their towel, the bathroom foggy from the steam of the hot water.

“Harry!!! Thank you!” She exclaims, “you didn’t have to” she beams at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as he shows the cream to her.

“I wanted to” he smiles, leaning down to kiss the side of her head.

This is what he has longed for all his life, always feeling like there was something missing from him. The comfortableness of sharing his routine with the person he loves the most.

They stand side by side in front of the sink, their naked shoulders touching, and YN massages the cream onto her skin while Harry brushes his teeth.

When he’s done, YN hands him the cream and “want?”

He nods, and, “you put it for me” he says, closing his eyes immediately and bringing his hand up to swat away a couple of curls from his forehead.

YN grins widely and she sprinkles a little bit of cream on the palm of her fingers. She rubs them together to warm the cream, and then she raises on her tips to massage it onto Harry’s face.

She’s delicate in doing so, rubbing his cheeks gently and then under his eyes, his nose and all the way down to his chin. He looks serious but relaxed at the same time, and YN rubs at his temples a little to ease what could be left of the tension he felt before.

He sighs dreamily and once she’s done, she rubs the remaining cream on his neck, and then she places a kiss on his lips, “all done”.

“Thank you baby” he smiles, leaning down to give her another kiss. And another. And another, until she’s giggling against his lips.

“Shh” he shushes her, placing another soft kiss against her lips.

“I’m so tired” YN says, knuckling at her eyes.

“Yeah… let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Once they reach his room, they both slip into their pajamas and hurry to get to bed, the tiredness of the day catching up to the both of them.

YN asks what side of the bed Harry sleeps on (the one near the door) and YN gets in beside him. She can smell the fabric softener of his cleaned sheets (that Harry had changed before they got in the shower), and she burrows herself more into the comforter, hiding her face under it.

“Where are yah!” He whispers, and when he hears her giggle, he raises the comforter over his head and joins her under the covers.

“Hi” he says once he’s face to face with her, the mint scent of his toothpaste tickling her nose. She looks extremely soft, her skin dewy from the cream and her eyes droopy with sleep.

“Hi” she repeats, moving closer to him. She rests her head on the palm of her hand, and she looks up at him dreamily. Harry feels a little claustrophobic from the lack of oxygen and the heaviness of the comforter over their heads, but he has to admit it’s comforting, being with her like this. Close.

“Thank you for giving me this” she whispers, shifting her gaze form one of his eyes to the other.

She hopes he understands what she means, because YN doesn’t mean the cream, the dinner, or the sex. She means a family. A routine. Something to look forward to at the end of the day when she feels exhausted. She knows now as long as she has Harry and Aidi she will never feel alone, and she will never have to question herself, how she did all those years ago in college when she would wonder what was wrong with her that made her so unlovable.

…

The next morning, Harry wakes up at around seven o’clock, too early for a Saturday morning, and he casts a glare towards YN that is sleeping soundly next to him.

When he realizes what time it is by looking at his phone, he understands something is missing. Aidi isn’t awake.

She usually wakes him up at around half past six by jumping on his bed, and then falls asleep almost immediately on his chest, clutching her stuffed bunny protectively to her side.

The possibility that she’s still asleep is very slim, and he decides to check on her, not without leaving a kiss on YN’s head before.

When he reaches Aidi’s room, he opens the door and frowns sadly at his daughter. She’s awake, lying on her bed still under the covers, talking quietly with her stuffed bunny.

“Hi bug” he whispers, “g’morning!”

“Hi” she says in a small voice, but she doesn’t raise her gaze to look at him. He knows she’s still upset.

“Why didn’t y’come wake me up?”

When she shrugs, he walks towards her bed, and with his hand he gestures for her to scooch over a little so he can lay down next to her.

He lays his head on her pillow and looks at her. She’s still sleepy, her eyes laced with sleep and her hair ruffled and curly. Her pajama top has shifted a little to expose the soft skin of her tummy, and Harry adjusts it to cover her.

“Cinna” Harry addresses her stuffed bunny once he realizes Aidi doesn’t want to talk to him yet, “why’s Aidi sad?”

Aidi pets the bunny’s ears and keeps her eyes forward, not looking at her dad.

“Is it because YN is here?” He asks gently, whispering as if it was a secret between them.

Aidi wraps her small fingers around the bunny’s neck and makes it nod its head. Harry smiles sadly at her, his chest aching at the sight of his daughter hurting, and him being the cause of that pain.

His sudden reaction is to just reassure her and he wonders if YN would understand if he told her to wait a little before coming over again, but then he remembers what she told him: that Aidi is smart and she will understand if he talks about his feelings. He figures it’s worth a try.

So, “Come here, bug” he says, stretching out his arm so she can rest her head on his chest.

It takes a while to convince her but after a little bit she shifts and places her cheek on his chest, holding her bunny tight under her chin.

“My baby” he coos, petting the hair out of her face, “just because YN is here it doesn’t mean we can’t do what we always do!”

He hears her sigh loudly through her nose and he understands she isn’t really convinced by his words.

“It doesn’t change the love I have for you” he says, but she’s little, and he tells her he loves her everyday, so it doesn’t do very much.

“YN is really nice” he tries, “and she’s my friend. She’s funny and she loves ice cream. And she gives great cuddles. Like… great. Way better than I do, because she’s warm and she smells nice, like candy”

He hears her giggle at his words, so he keeps going, “and she makes me really happy” he coos.

“How much?” Aidi asks, her voice muffled from the cheek she has smushed against his shirt.

“Ooooh, like how much happy we are when granny comes over”

Aidi hums and raises her head from his chest to look at her daddy. She looks a little less sad now, her lips open in a small smile.

“And she loooooves bunnies. She has like three stuffed bunnies,” he smiles, and Aidi looks down at the bunny clasped in her small hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah… she actually asked me if you and Cinna’d like to meet ‘em?”

She nods her head eagerly, “maybe we could invite them over next time?” She asks doubtfully, almost shy, and Harry beams with pride upon seeing her reaction.

“‘f course bug!” He exclaims excitedly, circling her back with his arms and squeezing her against his chest. He tickles her back and she giggles uncontrollably, her laugh muffled from his shirt, “daddy stooop! Please daddy!”

He joins in on her laugh and he stops tickling her, squeezing her hard against his chest one last time.

“Is miss YN still asleep?” Aidi asks.

“Dunno,” he says, “do yeh want t’check?”

When she nods her head, he sits up on her bed and takes her in his arms, propping her on his hip and picking up her stuffed bunny.

They make their way towards Harry’s bedroom, and when they open the door, YN is still sound asleep under the duvet.

“She’s sleepin’” he whispers, and smiles when Aidi clasps her hand on his mouth, shushing him.

“Do yeh want t’sleep a little mo’?”

“Like always?” She asks, looking at him with big eyes.

“Yeah”

Aidi nods her head and points toward the bed with the hand that’s holding the bunny, “in here”.

“Okay” he nods amused.

He lays her down on the bed next to YN, tucking her under the covers, and then he scooches in next to them, shutting the small light on his bedside table.

“Harry?” He’s almost half asleep when he hears her small voice, and he opens his eyes tiredly to look at her.

“Everything’s okay?” YN asks, her voice laced with a bit of worry, that he’s quick to reassure.

“Yes. She wanted to sleep a little bit more”

“Okay.” She nods happily.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’. Everything’s perfect” he reassures, stretching a hand to caress her face.

He smiles fondly when she turns her head to kiss the skin of his wrist and then he lulls her back to sleep like he did with his daughter, petting her hair soothingly.

YN falls asleep almost immediately, and Aidi, too, is sleeping peacefully between them.

Harry, despite the tiredness, stays awake a little longer to look at both of his girls trough the dark, sleeping next to him, his heart growing in his chest every second he spends looking at them, and he wonders what they’re dreaming about, these two girls that in different ways gave him a reason to love again.

In the morning, he’ll be the last one to wake up, alone in his bed, and he’ll hear the laughter coming from the kitchen along with the sweet scent of pancakes and bacon. He will let Aidi tell him all about how YN really gives the best cuddles and smells of candy, and he will kiss YN tenderly on the head. Aidi will ask YN when she can meet her bunnies while she bites down on her Nutella pancake, and YN will say whenever her and Cinnabunny are ready.

And Harry will finally feel at peace in his routine. No pieces missing.

omg bad habit 3 is finally here 😭 i missed writing for them so much, they're all so cuteeeee ugh lmk if you liked it and if i should write more blurbs about them!!! love you all so much

#harry styles blurb #bad habit #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #teacher!yn #dad harry styles #dad!harry #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles love on tour

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔹𝕠𝕥𝕙

Bad Summary: What would OP Men do when your kids walk in on yall having sex🧍🏾‍♀️

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Law, Sanji, Zoro, Ace, Luffy

CW: TWT Links are mentioned, All OP men are daddies and married, kids walking in on yall being freaks, Luffy speaks spanish because i fucking said so, Just…sex

Law

Couldn’t be more embarrassed.

Since the day your little baby girl started walking Law tried his damn hardest NOT to have her walk in on you both even getting DRESSED

But he goofed up.

He swore up and down his daughter was sleep and since it’s been a while since you both had been intimate Law couldn’t take it anymore after seeing your supple thicker body prancing around the house in just his shirt all day

He had you on your back on the bed, his soft damped lips on your warm skin as he licked and suckled your breast like a starved man

His hand having a firm grip on your wide thigh, your moans were swallowed by his mouth.

It wasn’t long until he added onto the pleasure and was 2 knuckles deep in your pussy while still sucking your breast. “Mmm!” You whined, feeling a smirk against your skin.

Law was feeling so in his element finally being able to feel and touch you like this again.

That was until—

“Daddy! Mommy!” Your daughter comes in yawning, her pretty dark skin shinning, wearing a small silk bonnet holding a white teddy bear Law got her for her 1st birthday. She had her father’s sleepy eyes.

It was like time froze when your door creaked open and immediately Law panics and throws a cover over your entire naked body.

“WH-WHA UH! YES! Ahem…yes, Rosie?”

Law’s voice creaked. It was adorable hearing him stutter trying to find the words to excuse what your daughter could have possibly saw.

You get up, luckily his shirt was by the floor so you swiftly put it on to pick her up. “What’s wrong, girly? Another nightmare?”

She nods, you decided to go and take her back in her room, looking back at a now flustered captain, wide eye’d and surpirgly a tent under the covers

Till this day Law now keeps the doors LOCKED when you both are getting busy, and fears your 2 year old daughter will one day ask him why did mommy have bruises on her chest

Sanji(oh my fuck sanji looks so good here)

A quickie.

A simple quickie was what Sanji needed to keep going.

You knew Sanji’s libido didn’t lower since you had your daughter and honestly you believe it got worse somehow?

But he was your husband and his big pleading eyes of him asking “Just 15 minutes!” made it difficult for you to say no.

So as your 5 year old was watching cartoons in the living room, you and him decided to sneak off

“Oh f-fuck…” His breathed into your neck prodding his lubed tip between your folds. Despite this being a “quickie” the way he laid you down on the bed, hooking your legs around his hips made you think this was ganna be longer than just a few minutes.

He didn’t waste any time fucking you deep and slow with your dress hiked up over your breast for him to nibble on

“S-sanji! Yo-you! Ah! Gatta stay quiet!”

It was like yours words went from one ear and out the other, He had a tight grip on your hips so you won’t buck into him, he was whinning and panting in your ear and your could feel the headboard slap against the wall

It felt amazing yes, but it was only amount of time until—

“Daddy m’hungry…” Your beautiful baby walking in with big dark brown curly hair covering one eye and a cute little curly brow like her father.

The shriek Sanji let out was almost as girly as his daughter’s when she gets frightened.

You slap your forehead, quickly pushing his still body off of you and tossing a cover over him praying to God she didn’t see anything she may be scared with.

“Daddy? Why were you on mommy while she was in pain like tha—-“

“I WAS HELPING HER!” He yelled, awkwardly laughing laughing off his pink face and patting your head, using the sheets to covers HIS chest like a teenage girl caught. “YES! I was helping mommy because she was just in SOOO much pain!”

“More like helping yourself.” You mumble putting on your robe, you snicker at his quick glare at you. Picking her up she explains how she wants to eat and watch a movie with you both.

As Sanji scrambles to put on some clothing you giggle away distracting little Sora so your husband can cook you all dinner and watch the Little Mermaid

He had a pink face all evening, don’t worry though. You made it up to him later that night.

With the door locked.

Zoro

Zoro said it would be a bad idea to do this because your son could be back from school at any moment, but you insisted you both had time

The moment you bent over on the couch for him exposing your wet cunt to his display was the same exact moment your husband forgot about any worries he had prior.

“You! Ah! Better …fucking cum !”

Your moans were broken into giggles the rapid snaps of his hips behind you, tugging your hair as you heard the panic in his voice made your jaw slack. Fuck, it felt so good to be fucked like this again.

You both still have sex on the regular, but it’s slower, and usually done in the shower. It’s been so long since Zoro was able to just bend you over and be as loud as he wants WHEREVER HE WANTS

You both were lost in the pleasure, if anybody were in your backyard they can see right where the glass doors were and watch the slutty view in front of them of Zoro pressing your hips down further.

You both were so close ! That was until the front door opened.

You fell straight on your stomach due to zoro’s suddenly weight on top of you. He started grumbling and mumbling in a panic.

Your 7 year old son, came in with a confused look, approaching you both closer your green haired idiot of a husband hollered waving.

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

“What?”

“JUST GO, KEHLANI ILL BE UP IN A SECOND I….SPILLED SOMETHING.”

Your son shrugs, not really caring enough to ask anymore questions so he goes up the stairs and leaves, you thank God in that moment he had his father’s attitude.

Zoro gets up from your back, still slowly pulling out making sure you’re not hurt to put on his sweats and tee shirt and throwing you your clothes.

“I told you this was a bad idea. Thats how your ass got pregnant last time.”

“Oh yeah?” You bark back, “You remember that night well huh. You must have had flashbacks the way you was moaning—“

“I WASN’T FUCKING MOANING!”

“DAD! YOU GATTA PUT ANOTHER DOLLAR IN THE SWEAR JAR!”

You stick your tongue out at his angry flustered face seeing him go search for his wallet

Ace

The twins were out with their uncle Luffy for the weekend.

Yes, you prayed heavily that they’ll be okay with him but Ace swore he’d be around his friends to to help

why not fuck around the while house like sluts?

And that you did.

After making a mess of the house you and Ace decided to just have a small smoking break before having to clean up and get ready for the babies to come back

But that of course led to shotgunning, which led to a heated makeout session, which then landed to Ace whispering you to ride him as he rutted beneath you.

Thats why you’re here, legs shaking and breast bouncing in front of your husbands face while he groans and whines to prettily about how good your tight cunt feels fluttering around his dick.

“S-so! Sensitive!”

“‘M ganna—!”

“ACE! Y/NNN!!!”

it was like time froze.

Luffy burst into your room holding your babies (in a very unsafe way on his shoulders) and started to laugh

“Ace I told you i was coming but—seems like Y/N was too!”

You swore if Luffy wasn’t holding your babies you would have threw a pillow at his head; instead you cover yourself in your blankets and let ace put on some shorts and take the kids while you get ready to take a shower

You grimace at the thought of your brother in law seeing your bare back, but thankfully your babies won’t remember since they’re only 1

…and hopefully Luffy doesn’t ever speak of this moment again

Luffy

Luffy doesn’t care.

He never had shame.

You had to teach him that when he got older and you both had your son.

He was a curious boy like his daddy, but the one thing he somehow managed to be at the sheer age of 7 was to somehow be more stealth

Y’all son, AJ was very very good at appearing out of no where and sneaking up on your both. Luffy swears he ate some kind of stealth DF.

You knew this would be an issue wanting to do quickies but Luffy didn’t care. He was hard and turned on after seeing you already starting to get thicker in the breast and thighs again after finding you you are in fact pregnant again with his baby.

So you do what any good girl of his does:

Suck his dick.

He swore it would be real quick, AJ was watching Pokemon and eating meat so they had about 11 minutes.

“Just lemme use your throat, mami—“

“…fine.”

So there you were; on your knees, hands on Luffy’s thick thighs as he damn near test how good your no gag reflexes were.

You’d be a lie to say his groans and whimpers never failed to arouse you.

You were itching from some relief too so you reach down into your panties to play with your clit, as your husband was coming close to his own high, gasping a little at how wet you were until——

“What are you and mommy doing?”

In an instant you pushed Luffy back to sit on the bed and tried shielding him with your body

“Ah—uh—AJ! Go!—-go um—“

“Mami está ocupada haciendo que papá se sienta bien!!”

You didn’t know much Spanish but you knew it had to be inappropriate because Luffy only speaks that to him when he says something nasty, so you smack his head

“We’ll be right out, AJ just go—“

“Mommy are you okay? Daddy said you were making him fee—“

“Go ! AJ! Please, baby go back in the living room.”

He does as told, hesitantly, but you shut the door on him and your dim witted husband just sighs, “So…no more?”

You didn’t talk to him the whole day.

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krirebr · 6 months

Text

More Than This 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part One

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap.

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left.

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but.

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be.

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you.

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment.

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream.

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed.

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all.

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell.

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle.

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face.

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary.

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day.

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.”

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do.

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun.

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables.

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server.

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne.

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.”

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end.

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course.

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated.

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.”

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least.

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes.

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night.

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come.

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

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harkonnin · 2 months

Text

* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Chapter 1 - Introduction Chapter 2 - Beginnings are such delicate times Chapter 3 - Eclipse Chapter 4 - A Time of Quiet Between the Storms Chapter 5 - Harkonnen Arena Chapter 6 - Water of life Chapter 7 - Each man is a little war Chapter 8 - Spice

***

The lush and deep forests near the castle brings many memories to you. Soon your life might look completely different, should Feyd reconsider marriage. You hope he pulls through, in more ways than one. Walking in the crisp fresh air of the trees makes you realise your feelings might be developing in more than just infatuation. Your heart sank when you saw Feyd collapse last night. It felt heavy to breathe just thinking about what would have happened if he died. But not only that, you felt as if Feyd would be an interesting partner. His personality very different from the men who you had known all your life. He showed a different kind of devotion, almost obsession over you. You admit it made you quiver a little bit every time he stared you down, a biological reaction, you assured yourself.

You think it’s sinful to admit that when he had you cornered in the halls, hand pulling your hair, you also felt your body react to that. It was the first time a man didn’t tiptoe around you, someone who saw you on an equal line, someone who didn’t feel the need to behave otherwise because of your stature. You understand why your mother didn’t think a Bene Gesserit training would be something for you. You lacked the self-control and discipline, just now acknowledging how your body responded to violence like that. You continue walking in the forest, blushing heavily thinking about him. You can’t seem to snap out of the feeling of his breathe on your lips, his face so close, and then feeling the solid form of his body as you dragged him back. He truly is remarkable.

Feyd keeps inquiring the staff when you will be back, obsessively so. He doesn’t look desperate, but some of the people in the castle would describe him as a loyal dog waiting for their master to return. He had no patience whatsoever. He felt a lot fitter already, a burning sensation lingering in his muscles, but the medical staff reassured him he would be fine in a few days. He had heard everything that happened last night, how you grunted as you pulled his body all the way back to the castle, how you demanded them to save him, using any way possible, even if it meant breaking the law. You showed a devotion to him he wasn’t used to. Even his servants didn’t seem to care that much and were just acting out of fear. Whilst there was some fear in your voice last night, it wasn’t caused by him, it was a fear of losing him.

He went back to his quarters to get a much-needed bath and to sit in his own thoughts for now. He wasn’t allowed to let himself get so entrapped by her, it showed a certain weakness that Harkonnen didn’t take kindly to. He felt his worries wash off him as he entered the bathroom however, the same enchanting scent he smelled coming from the garden last night, now enveloping him. ‘Caladian rose’ it was called. And he noticed how it smelled like her. He recalled the way he trapped her between the wall and himself the day before, when he got a whiff of her perfume, how his hand smelled like her.

It drove him crazy; his hands went down into the water. He kept seeing your face as he softly stroked his full length. The scent of the bath adding to the feeling, it was like you were taking over his mind, all he could think of was you. He imagined how good you would look if you were in the bath here with him, your soft body writhing next to him, your hands on his chest, his face, his cock. His strokes were getting harder and faster at this point. He wanted nothing more but to taste you, lick your skin and claim your lips, to make you cry out his name, over and over. He came hard at the thought of you sitting on top of him, asking for more. He saw stars and realised you didn’t need to be trained like a Bene Gesserit, for you were already controlling his mind and body without it.

You eventually find the herb you were looking for and cut it with the blade Feyd gave you. It’s funny how a weapon made for killing was now being used for essentially gardening. You weren’t going to tell him that the first thing you used it on was a plant however, that’s just disrespectful.

As you make your way back to the castle, it’s already the late afternoon. It seemed like the search took longer than you wanted to, and you were needing a bath of your own. You felt sweaty, musky and assumed mentally drained after the events of last night. It would also help to calm down your muscles a little bit more. Feyd was a heavy man, and you were not used to dragging heavy men around. That was something Duncan hadn’t taught you yet.

You go to your quarters and let a bath run, you add some salts and Caladian rose essential oils. You hadn’t seen any staff members or servants in your walk back, but you also feared for any news coming from Feyd. You sort of assume he was strong enough to fight through the toxins, certainly with your blood going through him. But a small fear lingered. It would be better if you could see him tonight.

You eventually got out of the bath, to your own disappointment. A staff member had knocked on your door, telling you dinner would be starting soon. As you got out, you decide on wearing a pale purple dress, with cut-outs on your shoulders. It shaped around your body nicely and was extremely soft. As you moved towards the dining hall, it flowed behind you in the light of the setting sun.

As you entered the dining hall you stopped in your tracks. Feyd was standing near one of the bigger windows, looking outside towards the ocean. As he heard the door close behind you, he turned around. He was wearing something more casual as well, see through vest with a deep V-neck, showing off his perfectly shaped torso. It was tightened softly on his hip and a soft black pant underneath. His skin glistening in the direct sunlight it received. You made your way towards him, still in disbelief that he’s already up and running. His gaze softened once he saw you, whatever his thoughts were, they fell away.

“My Lady Atreides,” he purred as you got closer to him.

You smiled at him, for the first time it felt genuine as well. His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw, reminding himself to not listen to his instinct to kiss you right there and then. You reached over to touch him however, grazing his arm softly.

“How- When did you awaken?”, you stumble, softly rubbing your thumb against his arm.

He looked down at your hand and then back at you. You misinterpreted his meaning and let go of him. He countered by grabbing your hand back, softly playing with it. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, as you got hotter with every soft movement he did.

“I think I have my Lady to thank for that,” he said as he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly, never taking his eyes off yours.

He seemed like a proper gentleman just now, but you knew something was off. The glint in his eye and the way he smirked after reminding you that he was still Feyd. You didn’t seem to mind however, whatever he might be thinking about. You felt flattered and had to admit you loved it when he swooned over you like this. He was direct with his intentions; you knew where you stood with him.

As you two were standing there, the door opened once more. Your father and mother entered with an indescribable emotion set on their faces. By now, you assume word had spread already. You left out a soft ‘ugh’, and Feyd picked up on it. He let go of your hand and cupped your cheek softly. He brushed over your almost faded scar, as he licked him lips. How seductive, you thought. “Calm down darling, they won’t punish you if we get married,” he spoke.

There it was again, that word that caused all of this in the first place. He knew what he said, as he smiled a bit more venomous than he should have. You were stumbling to realise what he said about marriage, however. He saw your conflicting thoughts on your face and realised the words he spoke. A bit stifled at his lack of self-control, he let go of your cheek and made his way towards the table. He let his emotions slip a little too soon for his liking.

You’re staring out of the window, trying to process what had just transpired. As you turned around and sat down in front of him, you smiled a little bit, the inevitable dreaded conversation with your father could wait for now. You didn’t have the heart to look at Feyd’s face throughout dinner but shot a few glances to his body. He was remarkable, the epitome of a Greek god. You recall standing next to him and smelling Caladian rose on him. He could have taken a bath without any oils, but the fact that he didn’t, sent you into overdrive. This man was slowly taking over your every thought.

After dinner, your father proposes a toast in celebration of Feyd’s recovery, since not a lot of men have lived through meeting a white king cobra and living to tell the tale. You assumed Feyd would still be in a lot of pain on the inside, feeling a burning sensation every time he took a breath. You give the herbs to a staff member and ask her to prepare some tea. It’s the least you could do to help him feel more soothed.

As alcohol flows, you indulge in some of it as well. It soothes your inner thoughts and calms you down after the events that transpired. As the staff member returns, you muster up the courage to ask Feyd to follow you. You go out of the dining hall towards one of the balconies nearby. Feyd follows you promptly, wondering what you were going to say. You hand him over the tea, already cooled down a bit, and he takes the cup.

“What is this?” he questions you, smelling the cup and frowning at it. You chuckle at his reaction, “it’s just some tea, I went out to get fresh herbs, it helps with the feeling of dying,” you assume to know how he is feeling with that. He looks up at you, puzzled “I feel great,” he smirks.

You take a few seconds before you realise, he’s joking with you.

“Just drink it, even for you this can’t be enjoyable anymore,” you say as you slightly roll your eyes and turn to lean on the balcony railing.

The setup reminding you of the moment you shared with him back on Giedi Prime.

He listens and drinks it all in one go, it tastes a bit foul to his liking, like drinking grass or something. You laugh at his slight repulsion and let him have your glass of wine.

“Here, wash it away with this,” you say as he takes the glass and brushes your fingers with his softly.

He sips, and you see him return to his normal self. You smile softly at him as he gives you back your glass. You take a big sip out of the glass to wash down your creeping emotions. It makes you a bit numb and tingles within your body, but it’s a welcome treat. Feyd is staring at your face, trying to read your emotions at this point, you had been quiet all night. He decides to speak up.

“Lady Atreides, I have to thank you,” he starts, “not only did you save my life last night, you also went against the laws of your people to do so,” he continues as he takes your free hand, “you show a devotion to a cause much like we Harkonnen do, and for that I think you would be a worthy wife for me”.

You’re flattered, but his words seem to be a bit flat, very formal in a way. You had hoped his emotions to be a little bit stronger by now, but at least he wasn’t against marriage anymore. Even if it was for ulterior motives. He saw the struggle on your face, and wanted to shoot himself in the foot, he realised the words he spoke were extremely impersonal.

Ever the diplomat, you responded properly.

“I did what I had to do, I don’t think it would be labelled as an accident should you have died from poisoning, after my assassination attempt on Giedi Prime.”

You spoke with a little bit more sass when you mentioned that the people of his planet wanted to murder you, the alcohol probably giving you a bit more confidence tonight. He narrowed his eyes at you for a few seconds as you stared him down. Your face obviously not amused at his dryness. You turn away under his scorching look and revert your eyes towards the ocean. The moon casting a soft pale light on top of it. You felt his stare linger on you and wondered why both of you were so bad at communicating with each other.

You didn’t expect him to give you a heartfelt poem or anything, but to see him so devoid of emotions made you a little bit annoyed. You had just committed a crime for him, and all he could utter was “thanks, politically speaking we’d be great together”. What an asshole. That’s when you felt him lean towards you on the balcony, a hand trailing your shoulder softly. He had that dangerous quality about him, where you forgave him almost instantly whenever he touched you. You almost felt deprived every time he didn’t.

He trailed your shoulder and took his fingers further down the length of your arm, as if trying to soothe you. In a weird way it was working, you turn towards him as you see him staring back at you, his expression soft. His hand goes back up and onto your cheek, softly swiping at the scar.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight,” he confesses.

Your heart skips several beats at his intimacy. He looks you up and down and takes a deep breath before returning to your face. He notices your cheeks have a colour to them now, maybe it came from the alcohol, but he wants to believe that his words were the culprit. He comes closer to you, and you let him. You turn your body towards him, feeling completely engulfed in his actions.

“If you’ll have me, will you marry me?” he softly speaks, as his other hand snakes around your waist.

He could probably hear your heartbeat at this point, you felt like you were melting into his touch. He felt so warm against your body, so perfectly moulded. You put your glass of wine down and place your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, calm and controlled. For every time people warned you of this man, you have seen him in a different light more than often. He didn’t strike fear inside of you anymore, more so desire and a heavy need of wanting to be his.

As you open your mouth to speak, you get interrupted by a staff member telling you your father wants to speak with you. The moment is completely ruined, anxiety striking your face and Feyd notices. He lets you go but takes your hand in his and pulls it towards his face. He kisses it softly, never letting his eyes leave yours.

“I will await your answer, darling.” He lets you go, and you blush even more than before.

As the staff member guides you towards your father, she speaks some words of encouragement, but to be honest, at this point all you can think of is Feyd. He had just confessed his feelings in a strange way, it felt like he wanted to clear up that he also chose you, and not because of some political agreement. Having to listen to your father now felt like torture, for your night would only become worse.

As you entered his quarters he was standing at the window, in deep thought. You sighed and wanted to just get this over with.

“Father, you called?”, you snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned around and looked at you fondly.

You were perplexed, you fully expected him to give you a lecture, but his face was saying otherwise.

“My dear daughter, you truly are some mastermind, aren’t you,” he went to hug you. “What makes you say that father?”, you truly did not understand. “You, saving the Na-Baron, forcing him to marry you in the process, brilliant.” He looked at you filled with pride, but you also realised he completely misunderstood your intentions. “Dad, I’m not forcing anyone, I did what felt right at that moment, had I not, then House Harkonnen would be launching an attack on us as we speak. It was never my intention to force Feyd,” you sounded desperate to make him understand that you were not scheming, but you actually thought Feyd was going to be a good partner.

He looked at you puzzled, like he couldn’t understand what you were implying.

“You meant to save him?” he questioned you. “Yes!” you exclaimed. “Why? This man attacked you on your first day of meeting,” he tried to reason with you. “Because I like him!” you almost shouted.

Your confession falling silent in his room, his face contorting into some form of disbelief. He was trying to understand how someone like you would potentially fall in love with someone like Feyd-Rautha. You sighed and looked away from him.

“I didn’t just break the law because I saw a political advantage. A man I like was dying in front of me, I only did what my heart forced me to do.”

You sounded a bit desperate, to be understood and not judged at this point. Your father noticed your shift in body language, he had made you feel uncomfortable. To his regret, he never married your mother, so he understands what it meant to feel the desperate need to get married to someone you loved.

He hugged you and reassured you it’d all be fine. He released you after a while and spoke.

“The law states that only spouses or family members can aid in the giving of blood. Your mother was against it because it’s not a true Bene Gesserit way, but I don’t care. Your happiness is more important than that,” he took your hands in his, “we will keep the secret for as long as we can, once you get married it doesn’t matter anymore,” he kisses you on your forehead.

Your father only wanted to protect you from the world you lived in, but Feyd also had to agree to keep this secret. Which in turn could be a more difficult task than you wanted it to be.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha x reader #dune part two #dune movie #dune 2 #dune #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #the heart is not meant to rule

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mvybanks · 1 year

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THE DEAL - chapter two

a/n: hiii, finally finished ch.2, i hope you guys like it and that you fall in love with these two because i’m enjoying writing for them a lot!!!! let me know what you think if you want!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT , lots of touching and kissing, rafe is very cocky and hot (that probably needs a warning)

word count: 4.6k

my masterlist the deal masterlist

pairing: frat!rafe x innocent friend!reader

add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of this series you can specify it in the end note of the form!)

—

“Okay, tell me you’ve got it now, please,” you groaned in frustration as you let the side of your head fall back against the wall beside you.

You and Rafe had been at this for at least twenty minutes and all he had to do was learn how to use a coffee machine; how was he going to become at least a mediocre barista if he couldn’t press a couple of buttons on a machine?

“Yeah, I guess?” It was more of a question rather than an answer and you mentally facepalmed yourself.

This man was definitely not going to make your life easy.

However, you couldn’t lie to yourself, he looked adorable in his brown apron and with that focused expression on his face as he tried to understand what he was supposed to do. He was driving you mad with his incompetence, but in the end you knew he had always been a rich kid who probably never worked a day in his whole life. You still didn’t know why he needed a job but you didn’t pry.

It had been two days since you made a deal with him: you were willing to train him for a job if he was going to help you with your sexual inexperience. You did your best to forget about the latter part of the deal as you worked with him, you both needed to focus on the task ahead instead of what you were going to do after.

Matthew, your boyfriend, obviously knew nothing about your little arrangement; the truth was that you were embarrassed of telling him you were a virgin, he made you nervous, while with Rafe, for some reason, everything was easy and you felt comfortable, perhaps it was knowing that you didn’t have to see him again if things went south. You weren’t cheating on your boyfriend, not really, you only wanted to have some kind of experience before anything could happen between you; that wasn’t wrong…right?

“What if I wanted a…” you seemed to think about it, “a latte, what do you do now?” You asked, looking at the coffee he had finally worked into a ceramic mug.

He took the clear plastic bottle that contained the fresh milk and poured it inside the tall, metallic cup, side eyeing you in the process for he wanted your reassurance that he was doing good.

You chuckled lightly, “that’s right, you’re getting it.”

Finally, he grew more confident and finished the job effortlessly; at least he knew how to make two types of coffee now, you thought.

“Should I make some kind of drawing on it or something?” He glanced at the simple surface of the beverage.

“Cameron, you barely know how to make coffee, let’s just stick to that for now.”

He rested his lower back against the counter and sipped on the drink in his hand, for it would’ve gone to waste otherwise.

“You’re meaner than I thought, doll,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes at him, although the small grin you were hiding didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m no teacher, I don’t have the patience for that,” you crossed your arms on your chest in defeat, realizing he wasn’t wrong about your hostile behavior, “but you’re right. I’m sorry if I lost it a bit.”

He shrugged, “no apologies needed. It was very entertaining.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re hot when you’re mad,” he sent you his signature cocky smile and made his way to the customer who had just walked inside the Cocoa Corner, the café and bakery you were working at, leaving you a flustered mess behind the counter.

He was irritating, frustrating, the last person you would’ve ever wanted to work with, and yet, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your body every time he gave you one of his breathtaking smiles or made those flirty comments about you, the same ones you rolled your eyes at in front of him but thought about for hours after.

The first day of work was kind of a disaster for him; he broke more mugs that you could count and you had to give for free at least five or six muffins to apologize for the many inconveniences that he caused throughout the day. Once the rainy afternoon was replaced by a starry night, you and Rafe still found yourself inside the kitchen as you taught him how to balance more than only two mugs on the serving tray.

“Hold it with your hand under the tray and use your whole palm,” you explained to him as you showed him exactly what to do, “and if you think it’s too heavy, help yourself with your other hand; it’s better than letting everything fall to the ground.”

“How the fuck do people make it seem so easy?”

He followed your directions and it seemed to work as he walked around the tables, “actually, you know what? I’m a natural.”

You laughed at his words, knowing full well he was everything but that, “oh yeah, definitely.”

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in your tone and turned around to glare at you with a false offended look. “You’re just jealous because you could never be as good as me.”

“And thank God for that.”

He closed the distance between you two with a smirk on his face and bent his head to whisper in your ear, “we’ll see how good you are when you’re not the boss of me tomorrow.”

It took you a couple of seconds to regain your dignity before you scoffed at his words and pulled away from him, “you’re an asshole, you know that?”

Walking backwards as he put the tray down and undid his apron, “oh, you love it, sweetheart,” he said before taking his things from the employers’ rack.

“In your dreams, Cameron.”

You followed his actions and turned all the lights off when the sound of the door opening and closing behind you made you believe he had left without even saying goodbye.

Typical.

As you began to check if everything was in order, coffee machine turned off and with it the oven, his voice startled you.

“Want a ride, doll?”

Your hand flew to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart down from the scare he had just given you.

“God! I thought you left.” You closed your eyes for a second and looked back at him, leaned against the window with his arms crossed and and a grin on his face; he did it on purpose the fucker.

“And by the way, I have a name,” you continued, referring to the nicknames he insisted on using for you.

“Oh I know, it’s just funny to see you get all red when I call you doll.”

You groaned and walked past him, towards the door, the keys of the building in your hand. He stepped outside with you and silently watched you as you locked the door and made sure everything was sealed and secured properly.

“You’re staring, Cameron,” you said, annoyed at his antics, as you gave him your back.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What?”

At that point, you only knew how to roll your eyes at each other, although you were both secretly amused by the other, “I asked you if you wanted a ride. Jeez, I try to be a gentleman for once and this is what I get in return,” he looked up at the sky and pointed to you as he spoke, as if he was talking to someone about you.

You shook your head and hid your smile, “I can walk.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you do that,” he threw an arm around your shoulders, affectionately, and walked you to his car.

“You’re not letting me walk home now? When I thought you couldn’t be more annoying, here you are again, proving me wrong.”

“I’m glad you know I’m always right.”

“How did you get that from what I said?”

He shrugged, “read between the lines.”

As you approached his car, he opened the door for you and let you get inside the passenger seat. To say you were shocked was an understatement, he really was different than you thought; no one had ever opened a car door for you and although it might’ve been a simple gesture, you couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it had been for him to do something like that.

“So, where am I taking you?” He asked when he took his place at the driver’s seat.

You explained to him how to get to your apartment and he started the car. The ride was silent but comfortable at the same time, it brought a sense of peace to you and you couldn’t understand why. The radio played a soft tune and he unconsciously started to hum to it while you had to look away from the sight of him driving his expensive car; why was it so attractive to you?

When you stopped gawking at him, you tried to focus on the song that was playing, realizing it was by Taylor Swift, and the snort you let out was unexpected and unplanned. He glanced at you for a second before giving his attention to the road again.

“What’s so funny?” Rafe curiously asked, the shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Were you really singing to Taylor Swift? You?”

He thanked whoever was up there for the darkness that was inside the vehicle because he was sure his cheeks had to be beet red.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you,” he jokingly said, pulling up to a stop, right in front of your apartment complex.

“But then how are you going to live without me?”

In the end, he couldn’t hide his smirk anymore and turned his body to look at you, “I’ll manage.”

“Asshole,” you chuckled.

“‘S that my new nickname?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s your birth name. First name Ass, last name Hole.”

“Pretty unfortunate combination.”

Finally, you laughed, you couldn’t contain it anymore and he was thankful for that because he was sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his whole life. He’d had to work more for a real laugh from you than anything else in his life and the result was sweeter than he had thought.

You shook your head and let your head fall against the headrest before turning to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He grinned, and it was the first genuine one he had ever given to you, “definitely,” he rasped.

You gave him a sweet, tight-lipped smile and reached for the handle of the car door, opening it and stepping outside of the vehicle soon after.

“Thank you for the ride,” you told him as you bent down to look at him through the opened door.

“Anytime.”

“Goodnight, Cameron.”

You closed the door and stopped yourself from smiling again when he rolled the window of the passenger seat down.

“Goodnight, doll.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by you how he waited until you were inside and closed the door of the building behind you before he started the car again and drove away.

You didn’t know why he managed to push all your buttons, for some reason he was a master at that and it drove you crazy in the best way possible; you could never admit that to yourself though. Rafe Cameron was known for his long line of meaningless hookups and for relationships that didn’t even last one week, before he caught the attention of some other poor victim.

However, you found out that he wasn’t as bad as you had thought, he was actually a pretty good guy, at least that was the only compliment you could give him because you didn’t want to admit to yourself how much you liked his company. He was a friend and he was starting to be a really good one, too, and nothing else.

The next day, you and him were meeting at the Delta Mu house, where he had been living for almost two years, and you were dying of embarrassment for you were afraid of walking inside the intimidating building. He had told you beforehand that he had explained to his roommate that you were going to study together for a project, therefore no one was supposed to send you any weird looks as you stepped inside.

It was late in the afternoon when you arrived outside and found the door already opened, which gave you the green light to see for yourself how those guys really lived in those buildings. It was quieter than you had believed and you soon found some guys sprawled out on the couch of the common room, talking and laughing, while others were sitting at a table in the opened kitchen, books in front of them as they were…studying?

It wasn’t bad at all and you believed it was completely the opposite, comfortable and cozy. You didn’t realize that the person you were looking for was sitting on the armrest of the couch, until he turned around and walked over to you.

“Hey,” Rafe greeted you with a nod of his head and you only smiled at him, putting your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Hey.”

“Wanna go upstairs?”

Your eyes traveled to the rooms that were on the open space of the second floor and then back at him, “yeah, sure.”

It was awkward, it wasn’t as easy as it had been the day before and you hated it. He was wearing a white t-shirt that gave absolutely nothing to the imagination of what he might’ve looked underneath, black jeans and a red and white baseball cap; you wanted to punch yourself in the face for gawking at how attractive he looked in that moment. When you got to his room, he motioned for you to go inside and closed the door behind him.

“It’s not as chaotic as I thought it would be” You said, referring to the ambience of the frat house.

He raised one eyebrow, “you do know we’re not animals, right?”

“That’s not what I meant! I-“

“Calm down, doll. I was just messing with you.”

You gave him a death stare that lasted less than a second before a stupid grin took over your features.

He was leaning with his back against the wooden door, his arms crossed on his chest as he looked at you up and down, standing in the middle of his room and feeling completely out of your element.

“Are you just going to stand there?” You finally asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, slightly flipping it to the side and hypnotizing the man in front of you in the process. Now, he wanted nothing more than to do exactly what you had come there for, so he crossed the room with a couple of strides and stood before you.

“Alright, tell me what you want me to show you.”

Your cheeks flushed, except it wasn’t about being embarrassed but only the natural warmth that his body so close to yours brought you.

“I-I mean, I told you what the deal was about.”

“Right, but I don’t know where you want me to start.”

You looked up at him, your confidence from the day before all gone as you felt small when his eyes stared into yours, “the basics?”

He nodded once, “we could…” he cleared his throat; why was he feeling shy around you all of a sudden?

“We could make out, if that’s okay.”

He almost cringed at his words, he felt like a teenager having his first experience with a girl and it scared and excited him all at once.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“You said you wanted to know how to pleasure a man-“

You pushed him slightly, putting a hand on his chest as you both chuckled, “can you stop doing that?”

“There she is again,” he muttered, “alright, I’m serious now. What I was saying is that you can do that by kissing him, too.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “oh, how?”

“Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed the visor of his cap and turned it so that it rested on the back of his head; bending his neck to close the distance between your faces, he wrapped one arm around your middle, pushing your fronts together, not an inch between you. His other hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you stopped yourself from sucking in a breath at the touch as his palm made contact with your cheek.

His lips hovered over yours and his breath hit your mouth as you breathed into each other; he was making you crave him, he wanted you to want this, to ask for this. Without ever touching your lips, or anyway not the way you wanted him to, he began pressing his mouth against the corner of yours, then on your cheek and down to your neck.

You hated how much you were aching for him. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as he left sloppy kisses on the exposed skin of yous while you tilted your head back to give him more access. His hands remained in safe areas, never quite touching you in an inappropriate manner, and yet that made you need his touch even more.

His lips reached your ear and gently bit your lobe as you stifled a moan, “you want him to ask you to kiss him,” he rasped, “he has to beg you. It’s all about the buildup, make him desperate.”

You nodded, not trusting your words, and he raised his head to look at your face, your hands falling at your sides as he admired your eyes full of lust and your cheeks wearing a rosy blush. Once his shyness had been replaced by desire, he knew he was going to enjoy this a lot.

“Your turn,” he continued.

You shakily placed your hands back around his neck and you both chuckled when you realized that he was too much taller than you to make this work. Wordlessly, he walked backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed and he sat on it, motioning for you to do the same. When you stood before him, he put his hands on your hips and pulled you down on his lap, successfully and easily reaching his goal thanks to the weakness he had caused in your knees. They sat on either side of him as your bottom hovered right above his crotch; this position gave you the upper hand, making you tower over him and look down at those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You did exactly as he told you and teased his lips, almost leaning in to kiss him but never giving him the satisfaction. Your heavy breaths fanned out on his cheek, brushing over the skin without kissing it, and then your lips slowly reached his jaw, leaving a soft kiss and letting your lips linger a little bit longer than necessary. His fingers squeezed your hips and that was all you needed to realize your actions were working on him. You trailed your lips down to his neck, exactly like he had done to you, and the sound of your mouth smacking against his skin was too much for him; why did you have to be such a good student?

When his hands, experimentally, traveled down to your bottom, grabbing it, you let out an unexpected gasp mixed with a moan, completely ruining him.

With one hand, he gently gripped your hair to force your head up, “kiss me,” he growled on your lips and you obliged, a smirk playing on your features at the realization that you had won whatever game was going on between you.

He licked your bottom lip, asking you to grant him access to your mouth, and you did; you let his tongue explore your mouth and fight with your own for domination, losing very quickly when he squeezed your behind. Neither of you had ever felt so aroused by a first kiss, but you pushed the thought away; this was professional, that was what you had told him.

Although his head was spinning at the taste of your cherry chapstick and the way you were letting him kiss you, he still noticed how your hands never left the back of his neck, stuck in one position.

He reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, “use your hands a little, doll.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “how? What am I supposed to do with them?”

Rafe maintained eye contact when the hand that was on your head slowly traveled down from your neck to your back, tracing your spine and causing you to shudder. With his other hand, he grabbed your upper thigh and then went back to your hip and up your waist, until it almost touched your breast, making your breath hitch in your throat at the thought of having his skillful hands on your chest.

“Make him want more.”

He gripped your chin with the fingers that had previously been on your back and pulled your bottom lip from the grasp of your teeth, an action you hadn’t even noticed you were doing. Finally, he went back to kissing you; not because he wanted you to show him you had learned what he had just taught you, but because he was dying to have your lips again.

You tentatively brought your hand from his neck down to his chest and his stomach, dragging your manicured nails down the shirt covered skin, so slowly that he unexpectedly let out a groan in your mouth. You took that as your cue to continue with your teasing, therefore you placed your other hand on the back of his head and took the visor of his snapback to throw it carelessly somewhere in the room, before you began scratching his scalp gently and pushing him further against you, playing with the little hairs of his buzzcut.

You weren’t sure of what you were doing, you took risks that you wouldn’t have taken with someone else, and suddenly, you weren’t feeling self-conscious around him, not even a little bit, for he made you feel bolder with each movement.

When his hand slipped under your top, his large palm pressing against your naked skin, he caused a shiver to run throughout your whole body. And yet, you didn’t stop him; he was just teaching you, right? It was only fair you mirrored his actions.

Your hand traveled down to his upper thigh, looking for the bottom of his shirt until you accidentally brushed your fingers against the bulge in his pants, which caused a hiss to leave his lips as his free hand grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Not there, doll,” he rasped.

Your cheeks were on fire, mortified of what you had just done, “sorry.”

“‘S okay. C’mere.”

His lips met yours again and guided your hand under his shirt, his skin burning at your touch. He didn’t know why goosebumps began littering his skin when your palm made contact with his naked skin, he tried to shake the feeling off, believing it was the cold air that made him shudder; it couldn’t have been because of your touch, right?

Unbeknownst to him, you were asking yourself the same question and for a moment, you completely forgot you weren’t doing this for yourself, but it was hard to remember that when his hands were on you.

For he couldn’t take the heat anymore, he pulled away from you for a second to reach behind his back and take his shirt off, giving you the perfect sight of his abs. You weren’t given a moment to react because his lips looked for yours immediately, craving and tasting you again, only you. Perhaps he had been thinking about this since the first time you had given him one of those witty remarks of yours, but he was never going to admit that.

The feeling of your nails dragging down his naked chest was driving him insane, the bulge in his pants becoming more uncomfortable by the second. When you accidentally moaned in his mouth, he was done. He wrapped one arm around your waist and in one swift motion, he manhandled you until your back hit the mattress of his bed, never leaving your lips in the process.

Scratching his bare back, you caused him to groan and press your body further into the bed.

“Rafe,” you mumbled against his soft lips as you slightly pulled away, “I think we should stop.”

“Whatever you want, doll,” he breathed and rested his forehead on yours.

Did you really want to stop? You asked yourself, although you already knew the answer to that. You looked up at his cerulean eyes, losing yourself in them and feeling the intensity of his stare all of a sudden.

He couldn’t stop admiring the color of your eyes up close, entranced by the way they were hiding a thousand words that you didn’t want to admit to yourself you wanted to say. His eyes flickered to your swollen lips for a moment and he knew it was going to be impossible for him to forget about this.

“It’s probably getting late,” you whispered, not being able to lie about not wanting to continue the session, because you were aching to keep going, to see where he would’ve taken it, but you couldn’t.

He restrained himself with every single last bit of strength and self control he had from kissing you one last time before he rolled his body off of yours and gave you some space to regain your breath.

You turned your head to glance at him and he did the same, at which you both chuckled. “You sure as hell don’t have anything to worry about your making out skills,” he rasped.

“I had never done that before.”

“What?”

“Kissing someone like that, like you want something more than just a kiss. It had never happened to me.” You looked away from him as you spoke, scared he might’ve thought you were a freak for never doing something as simple as that, but instead, his next words took you by surprise.

“Huh, sounds like you hadn’t kissed the right person.”

You raised from the bed and adjusted your hair and clothes, disheveled after everything that had happened.

“My boyfriend is good to me,” you only said while you looked at him as he placed his weight on his elbows on either side of him.

“Never said that he wasn’t.”

“You were implying it.”

He sighed and took the shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the ground, before he put it back on. “If you thought that I was doing that, maybe it’s because you were thinking the same thing.”

“You’re not perfect, Cameron.”

He stood up and towered over you, “I never said that either, but then again, if you believed I was implying it, maybe you’re the one who was thinking it in the first place.”

You pushed him slightly by placing your hands on his chest, “you’re still insufferable,” you groaned.

Bending his head to put his lips next to your ear, he whispered “and you’re still so goddamn beautiful, but we all gotta make our peace with that, don’t we?”

Oh, how much he loved making you blush with only a couple of words.

“Don’t be late tomorrow,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had made you a flustered mess with only that foul mouth of his; “Saturday morning rush, you have to come in early.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You hoped your knees were strong enough to walk you to the door after the weakness he had brought to them. You stepped outside and glanced back at him.

“Bye, Cameron.”

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

And the only thought crossing your mind as you descended the stairs of the building was: why was your heart beating faster at the reminder alone of his hands on your body?

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@gemofthenight @vigilanteshitposting @m-indkiller @dearreader03 @4starg1rl @buckysdogtagss @yoonabeo @iruzias @babypoguelife @c0untryclub @poppet05 @earth2starkey @rosie-cameron @illicitfixations @valel07 @lilmaybank @palmwinemami @marzipaanz @buckyandlokirunmylife @laineywilsons @sweetestdesire @blobfidhhhhh @bungunz @guililove @slut4starkey @lemur46 @colbysbrocks @piceous21 @magnificantmermaid @chaostudee @rafesmoon @drink-graywater @ravenclawaddict5285 @justaboymom819 @dandyfordaffodils @pickingviolets @queenvane64 @fallingwallsh @Chibijustuff @mistalli @loverofdrewstarkey @rafelvrs @winchestwhores14 @stwrkeys @imawhoreforu @fangirl-madz @papillonoirsworld @rafexgold @onedayatatime6 @writtenwordslover @canarysposts @screan @demiioxox @fishingirl12 @cilliansangel @massiveprincesshologram @boo22sstuff @tylerb-r-b @mattyskies @lovedrewstarkey @rafecluver @diary-of-jj @tellytuby @wvnternvghtt @ilovetvd08

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imaginedanvrs · 3 months

Text

a galaxy stands between us

part 2 l masterlist

summary: adjusting from one enclosure to another proves challenging when you're unsure who to trust

word count: 4.5k

warnings: mentions of past confinement, allusions to schizophrenia

“Thor’s basically an alien and he looks like a regular dude,” Tony stated as he tinkered with his newest helmet model, seemingly the most relaxed at what the team might be keeping in their med bay. “Carol Danvers is half alien and looks normal when she’s not glowing,” he continued.

“Neither of those things are true,” Natasha corrected, having talked to the younger captain about her human-kree dna ratio in the past.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s from this planet or not,” Steve said. “What matters is what she’s capable of. What if she has powers like Wanda or a hulk like Bruce that she can’t control?”

“Her name is y/n,” Wanda input. “But you’re right,” she agreed, surprising everyone in the room to hear her say. “What then? Will you send her to S.H.I.E.L.D to lock her up? Will you put another collar on her? You know what happens when people try to control something because they’re afraid of it,” the Sokovian argued adamantly. Natasha couldn’t help but look at her partner with pride as they both stood in your corner. “You can wait for those test results, but I’m going to talk to y/n,” she declared to the room and left no room for anyone to stop her.

“Just let us try,” Natasha added, seeing the discontent on Steve’s face as he watched them both leave and turned his attention back to the records on screen. You had graduated high school five years prior and had been accepted into a university you had never gotten the chance to attend. There were legitimate files of you entering the foster system as a baby and the circumstances of which were unclear but it seemed you’d be abandoned. Natasha had been the one to point out that from Earth or not, you had spent enough time on the planet to at least have the rights of a human.

Meanwhile, you were adjusting to foreign feeling of being more conscious than you could recall being in a significantly long time. The world had a piercingly clear filter placed over it that you had once taken for granted. Still, it was entirely overwhelming when your attention was drawn to every minor aspect of your surroundings that you never would have taken any notice of before. You could have sworn you were able to count how many chemicals went into creating the overly sterile smell that was entrapped in the room with you. You could hear the faint hum of the lights hanging over you like a fly you couldn’t swat away and the brightness that came with it was even worse. What’s more, you could feel the cold breeze coming through the air conditioning that was making the hairs on your arms stand like tiny spikes. The only good thing that came from your reawakened senses was your ability to appreciate just how soft the sheets below you were. You hadn’t stopped bunching them up in your fists ever since you woke up.

It was strange, not being able to remember what it felt like to have full awareness of your surroundings. Unfortunately, the one aspect of your mind that remained was the part you wanted gone the most.

“It’s an improvement,” your stubborn companion told you as he stalked around the edge of the room and inspected everything he laid his orange eyes on. “Just don’t trust them,” he said. You didn’t respond, all too aware of the camera blinking in the corner of the room. You didn’t know who these people were, but you were sure it wouldn’t be ideal if they saw you talking to someone who wasn’t there. You needed to keep that to yourself, at least until you knew what they wanted from you. “And don’t look weak,” he added as he spotted the two women venturing down the corridor towards your room that they stepped into with ease, making you suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to come and go from the room as you pleased. You rubbed your wrists subconsciously where your cuffs had turned them red. No chains either.

Neither of the women were dressed in the usual white coats or tunics you were used to seeing. They wore casual clothing, and carried a similar pair, as though they had invited you into their own home like an abandoned stray they found on the streets. Though neither was standing overly close to you, the subtle scent of oak and vanilla drifted across subtly and was a welcomed change from the smell of chemicals. Combined with the looks of sheer curiosity, they did little to intimidate you and you wondered if that was worth trusting.

“How are you feeling?” The first woman spoke. You couldn’t say for sure, but if you had to guess you would say the women before you were the ones that had taken you from your old room. You swallowed the dryness in your mouth that shifted to your throat and nodded, holding no faith in your inactive voice box to give them an audible response. The redhead seemed to notice and glanced at the full water jug on the table next to you.

“That water’s for you,” she offered, less smiley than the brunette though her sincerity was still present. You nodded again, not about to tell her that thirst was normal ever since you had started being peg fed. Surely they had seen the small tube across your stomach. “And so are the clothes,” she added as she placed them down on the edge of the bed. They looked to be a set of comfortable sweatpants and shirt.

“I’m Wanda, by the way, and this is Natasha,” the brunette chipped in as she sat down in the chair next to your bed. Natasha lingered for a moment before taking the seat next to her. Wanda noticed your hesitancy as you regarded them both. “Don’t worry, she’s not as scary as she looks.” At this, the redhead cracked a smile towards the floor while the bear man grunted in acknowledgment, still wandering the perimeter. “We want to help you, y/n,” Wanda said with a sincerity you really hoped was genuine. You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful, nor would your embodied conscious let you, yet the pair brought an undeniably hint of calm upon you that wasn’t artificial for once.

“And to do that we need to know if you have any abilities we should know about,” Natasha added.

“Don’t,” the bear man warned and you had to resist the urge to look at him because you couldn’t answer that question with absolute certainty. You knew that you had done something all those years ago, something bad, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what. Of whatever had transpired, you could only remember the screams.

You shook your head but your lying skills were horribly out of practice. “They know,” the draped man said at once and you winced.

“Okay,” Natasha replied as the pair resisted exchanging a glance at your misinformation. They didn’t put it against you, betting they would both have done the same in your situation. Just because you had been taken away from one hell didn’t mean you hadn’t been placed into another.

“Try and get some sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow,” Natasha continued as she stood up from the chair. Wanda did the same as you looked as though you wanted to say something. You chewed your gums, considering the request you wanted to make. “Is there anything else you need?” The redhead asked.

“Han…handcuffs,” you croaked, barely recognising your own voice.

“What are you doing?” The bear man objected with a fierce glare.

“That’s not necessary,” Wanda insisted, noting how you rubbed your wrists and able to connect the dots.

“Okay,” Natasha said instead, reaching into the drawers kept by the door as her girlfriend shared the bear man’s displeasure. They both stared holes into the back of Natasha’s head as she slipped the cuffs around your left wrist loosely and attached it to the other bed rail and waited for you to offer your other wrist.

“No, Nat-” Wanda frowned at the redhead’s actions, unable to determine where they had stemmed from.

“I’m putting the key here, okay? If you want them taken off you can ask anyone that comes in,” Natasha informed you as she placed the key down on the bedside table just slightly out of your reach.

“Get them off!” The bear man hissed but you paid him no mind as you felt the weight of the cuffs. They were far lighter and looser than what you were used to and you had to tell yourself that it was a good thing. It wasn’t normal to sleep restrained, you knew that, but years of having the habit forced upon you was surprisingly alarming to break once you had the opportunity. Besides, it was going to be your first night sleeping without sedation or high security since… Well, you couldn’t risk the safety of the people that you may owe a great deal to.

“Than’ you,” you muttered, missing how Wanda’s features softened at your relief before following her partner out of the room in silence.

It wasn’t until they made it back to their own room that Natasha finally answered the unasked question that had followed them. “I needed them too after I left the red room,” she said simply. “We had to sleep in cuffs as well,” she added as Wanda listened intently and met her girlfriend’s soft eyes that only ever came out in that room. Wanda didn’t respond immediately, opting to close the distance between them by trailing her hands up Natasha’s arms until they snaked around her neck. “Being in a new place can be scary so sometimes you just need some familiarity.”

“Thank you for telling me,” the brunette murmured gently. Natasha smiled back and brought her lips to Wanda’s in a tender kiss. “I know it’s not easy,” she added, brushing her nose against the Russian’s. “I’m glad you were there, I don’t know if I would have said yes to her,” she admitted. Natasha hummed.

“You want to help her, so do I,” she stated.

“It might be easier said than done,” Wanda said as she considered the weight of what they had taken on. She didn’t regret any of it by any means, but they hadn’t anticipated finding anything like you at that base and weren’t sure how to adapt. Wanda thought she could understand how it felt to be in your place, but seemingly the spy once shared the same mentality you did.

“Undoubtedly, but we’ll figure it out,” Natasha assured as she rested her hands comfortably on Wanda’s waist. “We always do.”

“Have you seen this?” Bruce asked as he picked up the glass slide that held several drops of your blood on before peering over at the small tube that contained the rest, alarmed to find it in the same state.

“Is that y/n’s blood?” Tony picked up the tube and gazed at the blue liquid inquisitively. They hadn’t even started looking at the results of the tests that had just come through before they spotted the bizarre substance. “I don’t remember it being blue when we took it.”

“It wasn’t,” Bruce said with certainty as he ventured over to the computer screens in hopes of getting some answers. “But it’s certainly different.”

“Radiation maybe?” Tony suggested.

“More like reptile,” the scientist said as he highlighted the most unique traits that the computer identified. “I thought this would give us some answers but now I just have a million more questions,” he huffed as he leant back to examine the screens from a distance. “And I still have no idea what kind of containment we need to prepare.”

“Just don’t mention that around Romanoff and Maximoff,” Tony muttered as his phone chimed in his pocket. It was a message from Steve, calling both of them to the conference room along with an invitation to join a call between the captain and FuturGenus. It took Tony a second to realise that must be where you had come from and swiftly accepted the call.

“Stark,” he answered as he beckoned Bruce to follow him.

“Mr Stark, I’m glad you could join us,” a corporate voice replied.

“They want y/n back,” Steve was quick to inform, evidently haven talked to the organisation long enough already.

“In the interest of everyone’s safety,” the spokesman added calmly.

“Except y/n’s, right?” Tony said, far past caring for any retributions that would come with being so blunt.

“Gentleman, I don’t think you understand what exactly you are keeping in your home.”

“Then explain it to us,” Bruce interjected as he listened in.

“That’s confidential,” the voice said with a practised ease. “If you hand it- Ms l/n back then we can resume our assessment of-”

“I think y/n can decide where she wants to stay,” Steve said at once. He may not have been the biggest fan of you staying in the base, but there was no way he would willingly hand you back to FuturGenus.

“Very well, you can’t say we never tried,” the spokesman threatened just as Tony and Bruce entered the conference room only for the phone to hang up.

“Please tell me you’ve found something,” the blonde sighed as he pinched the space between his eyes. The scientists looked at each other, only certain of one thing.

“She’s cold-blooded.”

You stared down at the plate on the table over your lap with some scepticism, unsure of what exactly the contents of the meal entailed. You could tell that whoever had prepared and plated the dish had done their best to make it look as appetising as possible, but that was no easy feat to accomplish with the three small piles. One of the doctors, you couldn’t remember her name, had told you she didn’t believe you needed a peg tube anymore as they had no intention of sedating you. That meant you could go back to eating the normal food you had missed but that you needed to ease your body back into it, starting with puree. Once you could show them you could handle it, they would take the tube out.

Fortunately, the food was at least warm, taking your mind momentarily off of the insistent air conditioning that was still giving your goosebumps. You picked up the spoon, stumbling for a few moments as you worked to reawaken your muscle memory and began eating. Maybe it was because it was the first thing that had touched your tastebuds except for blood in years, but it was really fucking good food. The small portion was gone in under a minute.

You hadn’t seen the bear man all morning, a promising sign that he wouldn’t always be by your side or lingering at the front of your mind. It was far more peaceful without him and allowed your attention to continuously be drawn to the window along the wall behind you. It was a panel piece of glass that wouldn’t open and it was only about three feet long but you didn’t mind, glad that it provided you a chance to see the sky outside. There were a few clouds that you had watched pass by gradually, but generally it was a clear day. You used to always make sure you went outside on a day like that, even for a little while, so that you wouldn’t feel too cooped up once the sun went down.

Noticing that the hallway outside of your room was deserted, you moved your covers back with uncertainty, waiting for someone to walk by and demand you get back into bed. Five minutes passed and no one came, so you dropped your bare feet onto the chilled floor and padded along to the window that was too high up for you to lean against but not so much that it was above your chin.

You had no idea where you were, but the building was surrounded by more luscious green than you had ever seen in your life. Just outside was a vast field that looked to be about the size of a football pitch and it was bordered by a dense forest that stretched on for as far as you could see from the third or fourth floor. It was incredible. Your muscles ache to explore everything that you lay your eyes on, while your mind warned of the dangers of leaving. Going out into the world was a luxury you no longer possessed, but it was nice to imagine for a second what it would be like to be out there, unaware of the faint smile that crept onto your lips as you enabled the fantasy.

You were, somehow, a hazard.

However, not everyone shared that belief.

Natasha was pleased to see you out of bed as she strolled down the corridor to your temporary room. She paused once she reached the door, considering whether or not to leave you alone for a while before deciding that your circumstances didn’t really leave much room for that. The Russian knew that the team was getting angsty over the uncertainty of what you were capable of, even if she didn’t yet know how willing to defend you they were.

Once she turned the door handle, you spun around in a start to face Natasha with wide eyes. “It’s alright,” she assured at once and you visibly calmed upon recognising the redhead. “You can get out of bed. You can come out of the room too if you want,” she continued. “Even outside,” she said even though she knew she shouldn’t. You shook your head, unwilling to risk any harm that Natasha didn’t seem to think you were capable of inducing. She nodded respectfully.

“Mind if I sit?” She asked and it was then that you noticed the pack of playing cards in her hands. Intrigued, you shook your head again. “Wanda’s finishing paperwork from the other day and she’s kind of been kicking my ass at cards lately,” Natasha explained as she began to shuffle through the deck. “You up for a game?” She asked so nonchalantly that you didn’t need to think about it. You didn’t verbally respond, but you went back and perched on the bed with the table between you with clear interest. “Great, do you know Go Fish?”

After Natasha reminded you of the rules of the game, you spent a while playing comfortably. It felt good to be playing a card game again. It felt normal and Natasha treated it as much. She won more than you, not feeling the need to take any pity on how out of practice you were by throwing any of the matches. You had no idea how much time had passed or how many games you had played before Natasha started making comments out of the game as you played.

“How are your wrists?” She asked as they were only a little scratched instead of raw and scabbing.

“Okay,” you said with that same scratchiness that didn’t seem to be going away.

“We should get you some throat soothers,” Natasha quipped when she noticed, earning her a small smile as you continued to look at the cards.

“Only…eating puree,” you told her.

“Cho said that’s just temporary,” she pointed out. You nodded and placed down a winning card. Natasha huffed and let you take all of the cards to reshuffle them. “Did the cuffs help you sleep?” You glanced at her, weighing the honesty in your mind.

“Yes,” you hesitated. “The bed is…very soft,” you commented and lucky Natasha caught on to what you were implying.

“Too soft,” she finished for you. You nodded. “We can move you somewhere more comfortable.” You slowed the shuffling, considering what another move could mean. “If you don’t like the rooms, you don’t have to stay in them,” Natasha told you simply. You took a chance and looked the spy straight in the eye, hoping you would be able to detect any false promises. Deciding to believe her, you nodded and dealt the cards again. “But we need to know if there are any adaptations we should make.” You didn’t respond. “For any abilities,” she added.

“I don’t know what I can do,” you told her slowly but looked at her as you spoke, hoping that she would know you weren’t lying. “But I know it’s bad.”

“I don’t think so,” Natasha said simply. “I think you’ve just spent long enough being told that to believe it,” she continued, remembering how that felt and how long it could take to be convinced otherwise.

You really hoped she was right.

“Come on, let's find you somewhere better to stay,” Natasha invited as she stood up from the seat. You hesitated, peering down the corridor and considering your options before deciding that risks or not, you wanted to make the most of your compacted freedom.

Natasha concealed a smile of triumph when she saw you slide out of the bed, not wanting to make a big deal out of the small win, and led you down the corridor at a leisurely pace. The redhead pointed out the different rooms and sections of the base to you as you passed even though she knew it took a while to learn the base’s layout, occasionally comparing the building to the tower the team used to reside in. The Avengers had come together shortly after you were taken so you took her word for the comparisons blindly.

You didn’t cross paths with anyone until you reached the rooms. All of the communal areas, kitchens and corridors that you crossed were deserted though Natasha didn’t mention why. You had questioned it as you ventured throughout the building, just never aloud. Truthfully, you had a few questions about the base but figured as they were purely down to curiosity it would be best to keep them to yourself. The main one being, who the hell were these people?

“And these are the rooms,” Natasha announced at the front of two corridors. “The boys are down there but they all have their own homes so they usually just use them for crashing in after missions,” she explained, only giving you more questions. “But me and Wanda stay here,” she said simply, offering no explanation as to why they didn’t feel the need to have a home away from their workplace.

As if she had heard her name being mentioned, Wanda came through the closest door and smiled upon noticing you and Natasha. “That’s our room,” the redhead informed. Oh? Five years in captivity had really thrown off your gaydar.

“Cool,” you muttered, glad you had at least something in common with the two women.

“You can take any of these rooms.” You peered down the corridor, counting five doors in total. Were they all the same? Were some of them safer than others? Maybe it would be best if you went to the end room in case anything happened.

Wanda noted your silent anguish. “The one next to us has a pretty good view,” she told you as she opened up the door in question. You followed on without much convincing and took in the space before you. Judging by the rest of the building, you had half expected it to be much larger than it was but you were relieved to find that wasn’t the case. Similarly, there were no obnoxiously large windows across the walls and they were instead placed at head height and large enough to let a generous amount of natural light in while still giving you privacy. There was a made up double bed in the centre, a desk, ensuite, tv and what you presumed to be a closet. You had never had any of those possessions or amenities before. Now you were being offered them all and you still weren’t sure what it was you needed to do to make your keep or how long they wanted to put you up. Did they just want to keep running tests on you? Did they want to keep you away from the public? Were they hoping to benefit from your mystery abilities? These were questions you couldn’t keep pondering in silence because the anticipation of what was next was killing you.

“What is this place?” You asked slowly as you faced the two women in the doorway.

“The Avenger’s base?” Natasha answered.

“What’s the Avengers?” You continued when neither showed signs of being irritated by your questioning.

“We’re a team that was brought together to do some good,” the redhead said. “That’s not to say that we all haven’t made mistakes. We’ve all messed up at one point or another, but now we’re trying to use our skills and abilities to fight where we need to and help where we can.”

“Abilities?” You frowned. Natasha glanced at Wanda who lifted her right hand and suddenly produced a small bloom of red flecks that swirled around her fingertips like some kind of lifeform. You didn’t say anything, but your awe was evident by your slightly parted lips and mesmerised gaze. Wanda smiled at your reaction and let the red disperse, planning on showing you more some other time when you might not be so overwhelmed.

“What else?” You asked at once, taking both of them by surprise.

“Steve and Bucky are strong, Sam can fly,” Wanda began to list. “Vision is a robot.”

“Clint can shoot arrows but he claims to be retired,” Natasha added. “Then there are the ones that are more…part time,” she summarised.

“What about you?” You inquired.

“Spy,” she shrugged nonchalantly and you couldn't help but let a faint smile slip through at the sheer absurdity of it all. Yet you believed every word. There wasn’t much else to go on.

“Right,” you muttered. “And where do I fit into all this?”

“That’s what we want to figure out,” Wanda replied, knowing that it was all a lot to take in. What if you can’t? You wanted to ask but decided against it once you realised you might get an answer you didn’t want.

“Okay,” you settled with, though your shaky exhale wasn’t missed.

“We’ll give you some space,” Wanda said. “But if you need anything you know where we’ll be,” she offered with a sincere smile.

“Thanks,” you said before they closed the door. You gave the room another glance over before heading to the bathroom where you found the compact walk-in shower that you had hoped to discover. Without a moment’s delay, you lay down on the hard plastic floor and tried to focus on the inclusion and faint coolness felt through your clothes. You curled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tight, hoping against all odds that you could provide the Avengers with whatever they were looking for.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #gxg marvel #wandanat #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wandanat x reader

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leah-lover · 2 months

Text

Meeting again. Alexia × reader

Part 2

Reader comes back to Barca after 3 years.

The last 3 years have been a grind.

After I left Barcelona, I signed with Manchester city. Alexia and I haven't talked since that conversation at the door. My friends at the club were surprised at my sudden leave from the club we all thought I would retire at but I explained that I just needed a change of scenery and that if it all went well I would be back after one season. The fans were also shocked but I explained that for my mental health I had to leave and they understood that and supported my decision.

After I landed I stayed at Leila’s house while my affairs were getting sorted. The club was welcomùing and so were the girls. I had never played in the WSL before but it was a welcomed challenge. Their style of play was different, the culture surrounding the sport was different and so was the atmosphere, the support and the gay community.

All I focused on was my job. I Was friendly with the girls but never too close. I got fitter, healthier, faster, and more tactically efficient.

In my three years I won 2 WSL titles, 3 FA cups and 2 conti cups. We never made it to the champion’s league but the progress we made was enough for us to be feared globally.

My media presence and influence also grew. I had a disabled growth in the amount of following and input on the sales. Overall I was an entirely different person than the one I was before I left Alexia. The only true thing that mattered to me was myself and my growth.

By the end of my third season, after it had been decided we were the winner because of the difference in points between us and Chelsea, Leila came to me after practice one day.

“ hole chica, i need to talk to you about something.” She said after sitting next to me in the locker room.

“ Okay, go for it.” I replied.

“I noticed this a long time ago but I didn't know how to say it. You are giving my love. You haven't seen you in a long time. The cheerful, happy, complete you. Yes you have been doing well in other areas but you haven't been living a live amigo.” she said, caressing my back with her hand.

I looked up to her with a smile on my face, “ you are concerned, its cute, but don't be i am doing just fine.'' I said.

“ and that the problem you shouldn't be fine you should be more than, fine.” she said before I signed the camel out of her month. “ look so as to not hide anything from you, barca have contacted me.” she added.

Her statement has caused a jolt in my brain. Suddenly all the things that I had suppressed were coming back and all of Alexia back with it. But I stayed put and didn't move at all.

“ With Lucy now gone they need me to be the center back and want to build the old band back. They wanted me to open the conversation with you too but you weren't answering any of their calls or emails.” She said,

It is true Barca have been trying to contact you with no luck. The idea of barca was a distant thought in my brain. I couldn't do it. I couldn't be near her again, not when I just started to forget.

I remained silent and did not move, which prompted Leila to say. “ she drove you out of your club, your home, she doesn't deserve to stay in it while you suffer here. She should be the one suffering, not you. You love the chamipian’s league. You should go back and win it agin. You should fight to get back on the national team and play in the world cup. She has been getting a lot of the glory you deserve.” She was now angry.

“ Okay, I will think about just calming down,” I replied. I got my bags after that and left.

On my ride home all I was thinking about was the fact that she was right. I shouldn't hide away while Alexia is enjoying herself in Barcelona, not while she broke my heart.

As soon as I got home I called the president of barcelona. “ I heard you have a contract for me.'' I said as soon as he picked up.

The following weeks were hectic, me and Leila said our goodbye to the city girls and the staff. We packed up our bags and headed home.

This time she was the one living in my apartment. Our move has been kept quiet with only the necessary people knowing. The club wanted our home communing to be a total surprise. Leila and I negotiated both a multi year contract that we were both happy with.

After we were both settled in and at the start of pre season the club tweeted “ we can now officially announce that our og forward and center back are back safely home.'' The tweet was accompanied with a photo of both me and Leila signing our contracts.

The internet went crazy, we almost broke twitter with an announcement. I then thanked my city family with a post and logged off to prepare for my big day.

I was going to meet Alexia, the love of my life, the last person in my bed, my hero,and the reason for my heartbreak the following day.

I was very nervous so Leila opted to drive. We listened to music in hopes of getting nerves to calm down but with no luck.

When we arrived at the facility Leila held my hand and said “ we got this we are in this together. I smiled at her and started walking.

We went directly to the manager’s office. He gave us the rundown of everything and asked us to come to the field once we finished our fitness test.

We spent a couple hours in the gym getting our test done. Leila’s eyes never left mine reassuring me that everything will be okay. I managed to relax a little in the familiar space.

After we were done the physio asked us to go to the field.

All I could feel was my heart in my throat and the butterflies in my chest. Leila squeezed my hand to reassure me that it will all be fine.

I forgot what it felt like to be in the sun so that was all I was thinking about. Suddenly I heard clapping, Jonathan had introduced us to the team.

The first one to hug me was Ona, then Cata, Panos and all the rest except Mapi, Ingrid, Patri, Claudia and Alexia. They were all standing apart from everybody just watching as the rest of the team gave Leila and i hugs and kisses.

I knew this was gonna be hard but i didn't anticipate this. This will be more painful than hell will ever be.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas fic #alexia x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #espwnt #mapi leon #magdalena eriksson #niamh charles #ona batlle #mary earps #alessia russo #leila ouahabi #barca femeni #woso request #woso community #woso couples

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evergreenfields · 2 months

Text

Tea for Two

Part 2 of Yours Truly, A Hostage (Part 1).

After rescuing you in Piccadilly Circus, the Captain takes you up on your invite. Naturally you make tea, scones and sexual tension.

Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!reader

CW: explicit smut, piv sex, penetration, fingering, descriptions of a male body and female body (reader). MDNI.

Words: 3.5k

A/n: Let me know what you think! Also, I love how reader can afford to live on her own.

——

You honestly didn’t mean to be folded in half and speared so deliciously by John’s cock. It was only supposed to be tea and scones.

He arrived promptly, not giving you a chance to worry you had been ghosted.

You open the door to find him standing with his hands clasped at his front.

“Hello.” He says, it’s a rumble, heat fills you.

“Hi! Come in! Let me take your jacket.” You wave him into your tiny flat.

“Thanks, love.” You don’t watch as he shrugs it off. He’s wearing a green plaid shirt that hugs his broad chest. He looks different to yesterday, you thought he may look smaller as he wouldn’t be encumbered by all the gear and harnesses. But he was still huge, tall and broad. He’s not wearing a hat so you see his hair is neat and kind of side parted with a lot of grey. He’s in dark blue jeans and boots which probably added another 2 inches to his hulking frame.

“How did you know I love a tea party?” he marvels at the teacups while rolling up his sleeves revealing strong bulky forearms covered in dark hair.

“My third eye.” You point mysteriously between your eyebrows, trying to be nonchalant even though you feel flustered as he essentially started the foreplay by revealing his muscled forearms.

“What else does that third eye see?” He looks at you, it's strange how such icy blue eyes can show heat.

“It sees you behaving yourself.” You say with more gumption than you actually felt. You carry over the teapot and he waits to seat you. You can’t help but laugh awkwardly as he gently tucks your chair in.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” He says with mirth, the delicate teacup in his large hand was making you feel a certain way. You try not to stare.

“It’s a bit much.” You say quietly, “but so was yesterday.” Your thighs bounce up and down nervously. “How’s your friend, teammate, the younger guy, Gaz?”

“He’s alright, he sends his best,” Price didn’t want to reveal the full conversation they had when he told Gaz he got your phone number. Things like “but sir she’s closer to my age” and “no sir, she wasn’t complimenting my facial hair.”

“Oh bless him,” you say, touched.

“Are you okay? What you went through yesterday was no cake walk.” His brows knit together.

“It’s not really hit me yet, to be honest.” You admit, feeling conflicted because you were absolutely sidetracked with getting ready for a date with an SAS captain. You had left your statement at the police station earlier in the morning.

“If you need to talk, I’m here. And there’s no shame in speaking to a professional. A proper professional.” When he smiles, his lips disappear into his moustache and you find it was so endearing, smiling unintentionally along with him.

“Are you always like this with… rescued hostages?” You say earnestly, you’re not sure where you’re going with it.

“Definitely not.” He sits back, ramrod straight, “especially as you were so subtle.”

You feel mortified at how eager you were yesterday and it must show because he leans forward with a concerned hand out, as if to say ‘wait’.

“I’m glad you weren’t subtle,” he says quietly, “I was really taken by you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It feels weird hearing something so vulnerable, it doesn’t feel real. You feel flushed.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, “I know it’s your job but… it must be such a weight on your shoulders.” You reach out without thinking and squeeze his hand, it’s hot while yours is cold.

“You’re sweet,” he whispers “I’ve been doing this a long time, love.” He turns his hand over and envelopes your fingers, you feel patches of rougher skin.

You nod feverishly “I’m sorry I - it’s another world. I just sit behind a desk.” You’re in uncharted territory, he operates in another world, a dangerous one, one that collided with yours yesterday.

“You don’t need to apologise, it’s an important desk.”

You’re not satisfied with that. Trying to find the right words, caressing circles with your thumb into his hand, you blurt out “you were really brave.” You speak through the embarrassment.

“I couldn’t see you but I could hear you.” Your heart rate climbs. “It was…” you breathe out “so decisive and final.” He squeezes your hand. “I knew I was safe.”

He smiles warmly and covers your small hand with his. You sit like this for a moment, in the moment. You were sure the events of the last 48 hours would dawn on you heavily but right now you felt grounded.

“You’re wondering what to do with your other hand now, aren’t you?” He chuckles, breaking the silence.

“Am I that readable?”

“You’re an open book.” He smiles warmly, crows feet etching into his skin.

You reach over and tentatively cup his cheek, his beard tickles your palm, your thumb caresses his cheekbones, he has bags under his eyes, you sense you were right about him carrying unspoken weight. “Am I?” Vulnerability seeps from your pores.

You breathe from your mouth and on your second intake, John has a hand on the back of your neck. His azure eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how your hands got to his shoulders and on the back of his neck.

He pulls you in slowly and you engulf him, the band has snapped, the kiss is deep and forceful. He controls the pace which is deliberate and slow. He bleeds into you and you feel dizzy with the intensity. His mouth is molten on yours.

You both break away with a pant, the table shakes and the cutlery clinks.

“You alright, love?” Both of his hands are back on the table, palms down, unthreatening. His voice is no longer suggestive, but clipped. You search each other’s eyes.

“I’m good.” You nod frantically.

“We can go as far as you want, we can stop right here, you’re in charge alright?” Your heart and stomach flips.

“I-.” You laugh, shaking your head, all you can feel is the wetness growing in your knickers.

“Talk to me, love.” He flips his hands so his palms are facing up.

“I’m not usually like this.” You say, standing up, “but then yesterday wasn’t usual either.”

Pushing your chair back abruptly with a squeak, you climb into his lap and straddle him. You hear a quiet vibration from his throat, a delectable groan.

“If it makes you feel better, neither am I.” He feels just like you imagined but better, harder, expanses of muscle and a layer of mass. Your dress barely covers your ass as you seat yourself on his lap. His hands move along your waist and down to the swell of your hips. You can smell his cologne and see his eyelashes flutter again as his gaze roams over your chest and neck.

He looks up at you and you can’t look back, his gaze is too intense, you want the floor to swallow you up. You look up to your left, feeling goosebumps as he explores your exposed thighs. He presses them, sighing.

He kisses your neck. You feel tickled by his beard hairs and flexing thigh muscles. In response to his kiss, you do what any respectable woman would do on top of a man, you push against his hardening cock. The chair creaks as he bucks his hips up to meet yours, both of your heavy breathes filling the room.

When he hears the moan that tears from your throat, he is undone. He imagined what you sounded like while he got dressed for the date, and this didn’t hold a candle to it. With one swift motion he pushes his seat back and lifts you up. He squeezes your ass which causes your cunt to flutter and twitch, your knickers fall into your folds.

“My bedroom’s out there to the right.” You wrap your legs around him and you feel something hard.

“Fffuck!” You gasp and grind into him, unashamed.

“That’s my belt buckle.”

You whine in response.

“In time, in time.” he kneads your ass while minding your knees through the tight corridor. He gently lays you on the bed and pushes you into the mattress, manoeuvring so his growing manhood is against your throbbing cunt.

“This is a nice room.” He says seriously while only looking at your eyes and pushing his erection against the juncture of your spread legs, waiting for your reaction.

You gasp, “oh it’s big” and push back against him. His eyes roll and you feel emboldened at the sight of this burly man, a captain no less, lost in how your body feels. You reach up under his shirt to feel the mass of his pectorals, you’re electric with need. His bulky arms on either side of your head frame your vision.

“Darlin’ you are beautiful.” He unbuttons his shirt with one hand while still hovering over you. He likes the blush that falls across your features when he opens his shirt. He kisses you deeply before quickly taking the shirt off his shoulders, pecs flexing and skin shining with sweat. You catch that narrow waist and a happy trail of hair disappearing into his jeans which you resented were still on.

You didn’t realise you said “fuck” out loud again and his laugh hits you in your core.

“Your dress is really pretty, can I take it off?” John drawls, you nod and smile dumbly at his flattery, he’s clearly enjoying your fucked out brain working overtime.

You wriggle out from under the dress and let him pull it over your head. His hands claim your breasts in your lacy bra, fitting perfectly in his palms. You think you heard him groan “s’soft” before pressing his lips to yours.

“Did you wear this for me?” He pushes the lace to either side of your swollen breasts and sucks on your nipples. He teases them gently, pleased to feel they were hard and ready for him. The rough pads of his fingers give you much needed friction.

You look up at him doe eyed and then say “I did. Why are your jeans still on?” with a hard tug of his belt.

You see him laugh silently, shaking his head. He gets up from the bed. The loss of his weight makes you bounce up slightly. You pant and touch yourself, mewling at the ceiling.

A wry smile appears on his face as he bends to take off his boots, watching you intently as you draw circles on your clit through your knickers. He drops his boots next to your slippers, they are massive in comparison and you find yourself breathing in sharply.

Finally the zipper comes down and he shucks his jeans. You watch his bulge intently as he moves.

“Are those boxers regulation?” Your mouth is dry. He laughs and you feel that same flash of affirmation you felt when you first met.

“Are you always like this?” He doesn’t climb on top of you, instead he lays beside you and places his hand on top of yours, taking over the job of drawing circles into your bud. He then slides his middle finger down and up your wet slit, collecting your dew in your knickers.

“Definitely not.” You manage to say before you moan and shudder at his touch, you feel a tightening coil and the pleasure spreads through your body like shattered glass, instant and permanent. His fingers are deft and the movement precise.

“Y/n, you’re so wet.” John’s breathing is heavy against your cheek. You look at him as if to say something but when you meet his eyes, you’re speechless. Only a moan comes out and you snap your eyes shut as waves of electricity hit you. You don’t realise your hands are on your breasts.

“Tell me what you want.” He grits against your temple, hot and humid.

You open your mouth but you can only moan while he teases your clit with fleeting strokes.

“Tell me,” John slides your knickers to the side, eyes down at your glistening sex, “what you want, love.”

You arch your back and turn your face away from him, shy and overwhelmed. You really were in charge of the pace.

“I want you inside me.” Your voice muffled by the back of your hand.

His thick fingers followed the curve of your mound and down to the dip of your entrance. Slick with your juices, it doesn’t take much for his index and middle fingers to push through. John’s cock twitches at the sensation of your tight, hot cunt. You hear him take a sharp inhale.

“Tha’s it.” He begins pumping and you’re embarrassed to already feel an orgasm building. God he’s good at this you manage to think. His fingers curl up to your g-spot and you start to see specks of light behind your closed eyelids. John revels in the sounds of your wet pussy around his fingers and your moans. He adjusts himself, mindful of the undeniable tent in his boxers.

“John I’m- I’m- gonna!” You pant in time with his pumps. You can see his massive forearm and bicep moving between your smaller by comparison legs, his once parted hair now messy and his dark gaze on you - you’re pretty sure that’s why you came so suddenly.

“Oh god fuck!” You call out, the orgasm pulsing through you violently. Your stomach involuntarily convulses and you writhe, one hand knotted in the duvet and the other one clutching his free arm. John watches as you ride out the orgasm, the broken pants and small whines short circuit his brain.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes. You look up at him, neatly groomed beard, a strong dimpled chin and a smirk that could kill. He’s stroking his hand over your thigh and up to your stomach, his eyes are hooded.

“I’m not on birth control,” you say with a parched mouth. You roll over to a drawer and pull out protection. You tear one from the packet, you know it can be a deal breaker for men but it sorted the riff from the raff.

“I had no idea you wanted to have sex.” He says dryly, a prominent bulge in his boxers. You chuckle and slap him playfully in the chest, leaving the packet against him.

You trail your hand down his chest.

“It’s all yours.” He muttered as you pushed past his waistband to find his heavy cock. He breathed out with a guttural groan, calling you darling. You bite your lip and ignore the redness in your face, he’s well endowed and you’re almost afraid to see it. You remove your hands and pull at his waistband so his reddened cock springs out.

“Of course it’s huge.” You mewl, pulling back on his foreskin gently to reveal a pretty pink and leaking tip. John tenses at your needy touch, restraining himself.

You slink to the floor and manoeuvre yourself between his legs. John's heavy breathing fills the room. You reach behind your back and unhook your bra. You shuffle closer and the tip of John’s cock smears precum on your breast.

“Oh love, you already said thanks,” he laughs, bucking his hips so his cock is nestled in your cleavage. You press your breasts together around his manhood and bounce on your haunches. The Captain grunts, his hands pushing your hair out of your face. You stare at his engorged cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

Soon he gently pulls you toward him and peels your knickers off. He makes quick work of putting on the condom, you like that he does it in front of you.

“Let me take care of you now.” You climb onto him and rub your slit along his cock, coating it with your wetness.

“You’re perfect.” He groans in response, fingers digging into your hips. You grind faster and faster, moaning with abandon.

“Are you always such a gentleman?” You stutter, rolling your hips, your hands splayed across his muscled chest, your cunt quivering around nothing.

He laughs and flips you over, his arms on either side of you. You giggle in surprise and then choke out a groan when he pushes his cock against your core.

“Please fuck me” is all it takes for his resolve to crumble, on top of your supine and smooth body, smelling like flowers and white musk. You moan in unison when he pushes his tip against your core, his hips shifting closer and closer. Your pussy clenches around his girth.

“Oh god - is it all in?” You stutter, blood rushing to your face, your cunt pulsing at his sheer size.

“Just half way, love.” You hear the smirk. “I’ll slow down.” He pushes himself deeper tantalisingly slowly. You pant when his hips are flush with yours, eyes fluttering. You wonder how you looked stretched around him.

“You alright?” He checks.

When you nod, John sets a steady pace, pulling mostly out and then plunging back into your heat, down to the hilt.

“Oh god,” you shudder, hands gripping his shoulders. His stomach connects flatly with your clit.

“You like that?” His voice distorted with the movement.

“Yes! Yes!” He speeds up and your world is a flurry of motion. His thrusts are fast and sharp and they push you into the mattress.

You feebly try to bring your legs up onto his shoulders.

“Deeper?” He snarls, his day couldn’t get better. He easily swings your legs onto his shoulders, the backs of your knees wet with sweat against his chest. You’re folded into a mating press and speared by his cock. The friction melts you, you’re surrounded by his mass, his scent, his strength.

You thank the stars for his training because his stamina is unwavering. The bed frame creaking, mattress thumping and lewd noises from your wet cunt hits his ears, he’s not going to let this be a 1 and done.

“I think I’m gonna-”

“Do it darlin’, cum on my cock.”

“No no - I think I’m gonna wet myself.” You shudder, a palm to his chest.

“You won’t, trust me.” He grits out while maintaining fevered eye contact, “let go.”

And with that, your orgasm tears through you and you cover both your nethers in liquid.

“Oh f-uck!” You writhe and roll your hips, John slows down to languid thrusts, whispering into your ear “tha’s it, good girl.” The aftershocks spasm through your body, your toes tingle and you babble incoherently, having never squirted before.

“Mmm, y/n,” the Captain hovers over you and looks from eye to eye. He unsheathes himself from you which is met with a whine from your parted lips. He plunges himself back in. You’re wide eyed and breathless at the motion.

“Yes John!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and your calves and feet flop uselessly over his back as he thrusts quickly and deeply, slamming into your sex.

Soon his hands are under your knees and you're folded further, the angle causing him to connect with your tender spot. You feel a fizzle build in your stomach again.

With unnatural speed and precision, John gets you on the precipice again. You begin to feel him quiver, his muscles coiled and tense as he pistons in and out of you. One of his hands squeezes your right breast and the other is on the mattress.

“Please Captain, please,” you coo, trying his rank on for size with a broken moan. With that, John erupts inside you with a violent shudder, his member pulsing stripes of white hot seed. His orgasm is sharp and absolute.

“Ah love, fuck,” He grunts, his thrusts turning sloppy and his grip loosening on your tender breast. “You’re something else.” He barely manages to grit out. You stay entwined for a few moments, savouring the afterglow between kisses.

“Let me clean this up.” He climbs off of you, a finger trailing down your left breast. You’re too fucked-out to respond.

“To the- to the um left.” You call out to him but he’s already found your bathroom. He catches his reflection in the mirror, his sweaty and hairy chest heaving, face flushed red, hair falling onto his forehead, his softening cock hangs between his sweaty heavy thighs, with a full condom.

He swings by the kitchen for two glasses of water, still naked. He likes how your face softens when he passes you a glass, he doesn’t know if he’s flattered that you only looked at his eyes when he appeared.

He joins you in bed, both of you gulping water.

“Tell me,” your voice is hoarse, you add a pause, “what you want.”

John peers at you as if you’ve grown another head. Then a suppressed smile grows across his face as he realises. You are secretly proud of how you copied his accent.

There’s a pause and you patiently give him some grace, he drains the glass and places it on the bed side table.

Finally he turns to face you with softness in his eyes and says, “you. Asleep on my chest, love.”

#captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #john price x female reader #cod fanfic #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price #john price fluff #john price smut #captain price smut

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blueicequeen19 · 10 months

Text

Charter Ch. 2

Warnings: implied protected sex, dirty talk, a whole lot of family issues, JJ being an asshole, angst, boss x employee

Part One

My heart was in my throat the whole next day up until he showed up for the last part of the shift. It took everything in me to act like everything was fine as we went about our day to day routine.

JJ had a daughter. One with the sweetest baby voice and had sounded like she was over the moon about her dad. And the way his face had lit up when he’d answered the phone? My heart melted. There was so much more to him. Why was he keeping her a secret? He’d never once mentioned having a daughter but then again why would he?

I sighed, stocking the shelves closer to closing hours with more tourist items: shirts, magnets, keychains and more.

“I’m going to lock up.” JJs voice startled me but I nodded in acknowledgment as he went to the front door and twisted the lock. I glanced at my phone, noting that he was closing a whole hour early but I made no comment as I flipped the lights off and followed him into the back. I stacked the empty boxes by the back door and waited for him to finish counting the money.

I tried to keep calm but I couldn’t. My heart was racing in my chest. My skin was buzzing. I almost felt lied to. Then the lights were turned off and I gasped, moving to jump off the work bench but he was there, a hand on my waist and pushing me back.

“JJ.” I breathed, my hands going to his chest as he leaned to kiss my neck. I shivered against him, fisting his shirt as his tongue met my skin.

“You always smell so fucking good.” JJ groaned in my ear, reaching down to grip my ass over my shorts. I pushed at his chest. I couldn’t breathe.

JJ paused, pulling back to look down at me. He was so fucking tall and he smelled amazing too. Even with a hint of weed.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured in that voice thick with need. That husky voice that had my body on fire.

“You have a daughter.” I didn’t know how else to say it and for once I was grateful i couldn’t make out his face in the dark. I felt his body stiffen and his hands tighten on my waist.

“Is that a problem for you?” He finally asked.

“No! No, it’s not a problem. I just had no idea.” I blurted, suddenly feeling like I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“Why would you?” His words stung. Even if he wasn’t trying to hurt me, it still stung. Over the past year I’d vented about my life and he never once brought up his daughter. I didn’t say anything as I shook my head, hating myself for bringing this up. I reached for his belt, wanting to feel something better, but his hands stopped me.

“I don’t talk about my daughter because people get weird. Like you are right now.”

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I was just surprised.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I reached for his belt again. I heard him chuckle before he lifted me onto the work bench.

“Don’t be sorry. I’d be surprised too if I found out you had a secret child.” I heard the smile in his voice and my anxiety lessened. He could be funny when he wanted to be.

“How old is she?” I blurted, lifting my hips as he removed my shorts and panties. His hands paused for a moment before he dropped the clothes next to me on the work bench.

“She’s five.” JJ slid his hands between my thighs, caressing me but not touching where I was aching for him. My legs started to shake as his rings glided against my skin.

“You were young when you had her.” His finger tips touched my slit and I shuddered.

“I was.” I arched my body in search of his touch when he finally slid a finger inside me. I whimpered, letting my head fall back as he pumped slowly. He was trying to distract me.

“Fuck.” I moaned, propping my feet up on the work bench to open myself wider. JJ slid in another finger as his free hand moved under my tank top and under my bra to pinch my pierced nipple. I hissed and he curled his fingers.

“Stop. I’ll cum like this.” I pleaded, my body shuddering.

“Isn’t that the point?” He added a third finger and I came with a cry, rocking my body in sync with his fingers.

“I want to cum with you inside me.” I panted.

“I am inside you.” Bastard. His fingers curled hard and I moaned like a porn star.

“Your cock.” I bit out, reaching out blindly to fist his shirt. I heard him chuckle, the sound heating my blood as I heard his zipper lower.

“You want to cum on my cock?” JJ rasped, rolling on a condom and crowding me on the work bench. The weight of him was against my thigh and I wrapped my hand around it, guiding him to my entrance.

“I want to feel you deep inside me when I cum.” The tip slid in with ease.

“What about when I cum?”

“What about it?” The words barely leave my lips and he’s fisting the nape of my hair, yanking me forward so I’m burying him to the hilt with one go. I’m too stunned to make a sound. Especially not when he kisses me hard as he starts fucking me.

“Where’s her mother?” The words slip out of me before I can stop them. We’ve just locked up and set the alarm before making our way to the street where were parked. JJ’s back stiffens and I swear I hear the way his jaw clenches. Even his hands tighten to fists for a moment and I realize I’ve crossed a line.

“Why? A father can’t raise his daughter on his own?” JJ spats, turning to face me with fire in his eyes. Definitely a sore subject.

“No.. I just.. wondered if she had anyone else in her life. Being a single parent is hard.”

“I’m all she needs.” I immediately wondered who watched her when he was at work in the evening.

“And that’s okay! But it’s also fine for her to have more.” My chest tightens with the words I wished someone had said for me as a child. I needed more growing up and maybe that’s why I was so damn interested in him. JJ starts to step towards me but stops, his eyes narrowing.

“You don’t get an opinion on my life or my daughters just because we’re fucking.” He bites out through his teeth, low enough that no one else would hear. I glare back at him.

“Why are you being such a fucking dick? I was just curious. Obviously her mother isn’t in the picture and I’m sorry for bringing it up but you need to cool your emotions because I won’t be the first person to ask.” My chest heaved with the words, my eyes burning with the threat of tears as we stared at each other.

“Maybe you should look for another job to curb your curiosities.” JJ spat, turning without another word and climbing into his truck.

I offered him the middle finger as he drove away before climbing into my car and letting the tears fall.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #jj maybank #dad!jj

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rcksmith · 1 year

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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, swearing, mention of death, blood, fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end, fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.

Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities. A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.

His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.

His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However, Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.

Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.

It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.

Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it, much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.

So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.

So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.

It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.

It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.

But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.

On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.

Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.

Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.

An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.

Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.

What hell is going on?

It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.

In 1750.

His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.

The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.

Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.

Nothing. As always.

“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”

Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.

Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.

This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.

The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.

In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.

It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.

What was happening?

The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.

Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.

His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation was like he was already late.

The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.

He should have done it. But he didn't.

Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.

With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.

If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.

He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.

Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.

Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts, he wasn't oscillated by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.

Until now.

Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.

Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.

As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.

You.

Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.

Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.

His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.

There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.

In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.

Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.

There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.

There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.

He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.

You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.

Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.

You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.

The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.

That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.

There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.

Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.

You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore.

You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.

In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.

That was until he showed up.

You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.

One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.

Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.

“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.

He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.

The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.

The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.

“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.

Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.

Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.

Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.

Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.

It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.

Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…

“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”

Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.

This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.

A name…

Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.

He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.

His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.

His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."

A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.

Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.

You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.

The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.

‘One second can change many things...’

Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.

‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’

Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.

You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.

‘you can fall in love.’

With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.

An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.

Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.

In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.

"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.

"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.

The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.

There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.

Not after this man.

“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.

"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.

You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.

Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.

But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.

But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.

He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.

But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.

He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach. He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.

Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.

He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.

When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.

What was foolish.

The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.

No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.

A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.

Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.

Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.

At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.

However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.

Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.

In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’

Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.

And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.

You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.

No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.

-----------

Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.

He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.

Until now.

Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.

And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.

Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.

“A death.”

“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.

The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.

“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines, but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"

Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.

He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"

She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.

Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.

But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.

"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.

Then everything stopped.

The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.

She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”

There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.

What the fucking hell.

“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”

But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.

Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.

She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.

“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.

Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.

Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word.

For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.

“Five...you know her need to die...”

"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”

Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.

“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying! You won't touch her until the day I'm dead! And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."

You were untouchable.

All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people.

It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead.

Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.

Something he would never let happen.

If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.

In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.

It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.

His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.

Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.

But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you.

And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.

Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.

Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.

The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.

A place where the worst had happened to you.

Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.

Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.

The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.

It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.

When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.

It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.

After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.

In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.

But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.

Always you.

His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.

Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.

When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.

It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.

You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.

But, it was worth it.

All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.

Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.

Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.

Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.

Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.

Everyone thought so, actually.

The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.

Until that fateful moment.

Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.

As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.

Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.

Five.

Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.

His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.

Was like resurrect.

He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.

Nothing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.

He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.

His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.

But nobody noticed what he saw.

While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.

Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.

You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.

An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.

As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.

You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.

With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.

However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.

“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”

“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”

Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.

Holy shit.

Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.

But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.

You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.

He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.

He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.

For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.

That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.

But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.

It don’t make sense.

As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.

But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.

But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.

See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.

The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.

Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”

Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.

So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.

The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.

You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.

The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.

“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”

But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.

Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.

The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.

Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.

And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.

Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.

Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.

As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.

“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”

His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.

"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”

The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;

"Never."

The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

He didn't think twice before running to the side, hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.

You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.

-----------

"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.

The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.

Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.

The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.

"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.

"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.

The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…

The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.

Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.

He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.

The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.

Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.

There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.

That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.

“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.

"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.

“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.

But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"

“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”

Five…Five

His name was Five.

Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.

“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.

You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.

“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.

“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”

But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.

You needed to see him.

Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.

-----------

"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.

And he didn't find any answers.

To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.

The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.

Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.

You.

Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.

But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.

“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"

“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”

"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison

"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.

Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.

"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.

“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”

A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.

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Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.

But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.

What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.

After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.

“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”

Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.

Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.

So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.

If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.

And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”

But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.

You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.

“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”

A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.

Oh lord, please he do that.

Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.

“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”

Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.

If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.

"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."

You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.

Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.

Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.

He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.

“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.

That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.

“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the hotel.

But you would rather die than stop.

His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.

“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you "That's your cervix."

Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.

This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.

His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.

"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.

“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”

If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.

The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.

You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."

His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”

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